


Submit

by snow_haiku



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Bertholt, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, First Time, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mental Instability, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, Submission, Teaching, top!reiner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 52,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snow_haiku/pseuds/snow_haiku
Summary: Reiner has a secret.  Well, Reiner, Bertholt, and Annie have a secret but only Reiner has a problem.  After the death of Marcel, Reiner does more than lose his mind; he begins to lose his dynamic. The more Reiner struggles with the loss of Marcel, the guilt over his actions, and the personae he must wear, the more his alpha dynamic weakens.  And that's a problem since only titan shifters present with a dynamic and Reiner's altering dynamic is dangerously close to blowing their cover.Faced with losing his best friend, Bertholt makes the decision to take Marcel's place as Reiner's anchor to remind Reiner that he is both a warrior and an alpha and to keep their mission intact.  All he has to do is submit.tl;dr: canon-compliant light ABO in which titan shifters can alter their dynamic with a little sexual encouragement.





	1. Chapter 1

 

Welcome to my first AO3 posting!

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

 

 WARNING: major manga spoilers for chapter 95+ and definite anime spoilers for season 2.

If you only watch the anime: okay, so the spoilers aren’t crazy, technically. Basically you’ll get spoiled about Reiner and Bert’s hometown and a few things like that, so that’s your call if you want to risk it. And the hometown spoilers start basically immediately in the first chapter, so fair warning.

 This is a SnK/AoT series that will focus primarily on Reiner and Bertholt with a few other pairings thrown in (and a dash of ABO for fun). And we’ll get to the explicit rating within the first few chapters so don’t worry smut lovers, you won’t have to wade through 20 chapters of plot to get to the good stuff.

 

 

 

It smelled like flowers and summer fruit. Like crisp parchment and clean linen freshly folded after drying in the summer breeze. It smelled like home, like sunlight, like a small moment of happiness, the faintest trace of it lingering in the air, calling out to him, beckoning sweetly. For the briefest moment, Reiner forgot that he was shut away in a stuffy lecture hall while one of the training officers droned on about the history of the Wallists. For a fleeting second, he forgot that he was sitting at an uncomfortable desk, cadet uniform clinging to his damp, sweat-soaked skin as he struggled to keep his eyes focused on the board and his features arranged in what hopefully was an expression of feigned interest. For a wonderful instance, the smell pulled Reiner far away from the walls and titans and training and enveloped him in a place of peace and contentment for the first time in years.

Reiner inhaled deeply. _That smell._ It was new and yet achingly familiar at the same time and the more he smelled it the more his head swam. _That scent_. It had been years since he had last thought about it and years since he had last smelled it. And even though Reiner didn’t know where the smell was coming from, he immediately knew why he liked it so much: it smelled just like Marcel.

 _Marcel_. The thought still sent shivers of need down his spine, calling up memories and pheromones that he had stuffed down into himself, withered from disuse. He remembered the way Marcel would smile at him, the way he touched Reiner’s shoulder when he walked past him during dinner, the way his eyes sparkled when they talked about their future. And more than that, he remembered the warmth of Marcel’s body, the searing heat that took his breath away because someone so kind-hearted couldn’t possibly be anything like fire; he remembered the soft sounds Marcel would make, the pleading expression on his face, and the groans of satisfaction that spilled from his lips. Reiner swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, at the memory of Marcel and his sweet, coaxing scent.

Reiner had never forgotten Marcel. _How could he have ever forgotten him?_ For years of Reiner’s life, Marcel had dominated his every interaction. They were friends since they were children, huddled in the barracks together sharing the berries they had managed to swipe from the guards. Marcel had offered him soft words of encouragement when the others bullied him. He had held Reiner close in the darkness when he wept in despair and desperation and never told a soul. Marcel was the boy everyone looked up to. Long before they had ever met Zeke, Marcel was their leader. He was a gentle guide, kind and supportive, but firm and determined when he needed to be. He was only slightly older than the rest of the potential recruits but everyone followed him like he was an officer. It was hard not to be swept up in his charisma, even when he was a child.

Bertholt was Reiner’s closest friend when they first started training. They had gown up together and Reiner spent plenty of nights at the Hoover residence when his mother was out late working. He thought having Bertholt there would make training easier, but as training intensified they had less and less time together. And when Reiner began to fall behind from the others, Bertholt had to keep pushing forward. Reiner never blamed him for that; he would have done the same if their places were reversed, but it meant that Reiner was left all alone at the bottom of the list, falling apart. But then Marcel came.

Marcel, the sweet boy who was determined to never leave anyone behind, even someone as hopeless as Reiner. Marcel didn’t mind staying up late to help Reiner study, didn’t mind sparring for an extra hour if it gave Reiner more time to practice, and always, even despite Porco’s withering comments, saved a seat for Reiner so he wouldn’t have to sit alone. Bertholt may have been Reiner’s oldest and closest friend but Marcel very quickly became much more to Reiner. Far more.

Reiner shook his head as the lecturer droned on, trying to clear his thoughts in the stuffy lecture hall. Memories Reiner hadn’t called up in years had flooded back into his mind, conjured by that alluring scent. Memories that were both cherished and painful. Memories that Reiner had to quash down again, had to repress, had to pretend never happened. Dangerous memories.

Reiner drew in a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves but it only served to flood him with more of that scent. He hesitated, opening his eyes long enough to glance around the room; everyone was half asleep, trying to suffer through the lecture silently. No one would notice if Reiner let himself slip into his memories. No one would know if Reiner got to be sentimental and weak, just this one time. The scent was there and Reiner couldn’t pass up the opportunity of remembering Marcel so vividly. He breathed in again, letting the scent beckon to him, almost desperate to be that boy again with Marcel in Marley, far away from the terrors inside the walls.

_Marcel had smiled, his grin bright and earnest as he pressed his body against Reiner’s. “I can teach you to be strong,” he whispered, his breath gently brushing against Reiner’s neck._

_Reiner had held back a moan at the feel of Marcel’s body heat radiating against his skin. His head tipped back against the wall, basking in the safety of Marcel’s embrace. “How?” His voice came out squeaky and pitched, his immaturity and hesitance clear. He had hated that he sounded like that. He would never be a warrior at this rate._

_But Marcel didn’t seem to mind. Marcel didn’t even seem to notice. He cupped Reiner’s face in his hands, bringing their features close together. “Let me show you,” he whispered, his voice gentle and alluring. “Trust me and you’ll be strong enough to be a warrior one day. I know it.” Marcel kissed him gently with his soft lips, a strange look in his eyes that Reiner had never seen before. “Let me submit to you.”_

Reiner bit his lip, the lecture around him lost in his mind-numbing daydream. Reiner’s mind buzzed in relief at the distraction from the lecture and he let himself sink deeper and deeper into the haze the scent brought with him. He had spent so long trying to be like Marcel, trying to be the dominant and independent that suddenly the emergence of that sweet scent made him remember what it was like to be with Marcel.

That sweet smell that beckoned to him, that he and only he could ever have, that wonderful smell that meant that someone was willing to listen, to submit, to believe in him. Reiner hadn’t experienced that in years. For years, all he’d had was doubt and uncertainty, the critical eyes of his comrades, and the growing sense of unease at betraying his new friends. But not anymore. Now, he felt free, freer than he’d been in a long time. The smell of meadows filled him and he could almost feel the cool air of a summer’s breeze wafting over his prickling skin. There were no walls here. No titans. No hot lecture halls or starchy uniforms. He felt light and happy and free -

Reiner sighed softly, feeling his cock begin to stir, slowly thickening with arousal. He shifted in his seat, not even bothering to stem the flow of memories of Marcel. The tight, delicious heat of his body, the way he shuddered under Reiner, the barely contained whimpers as Reiner stretched him, the groans of release he made when he came -

“Reiner?” Connie whispered, giving him sidelong glance from his seat on Reiner’s right. “What are you doing?”

Reiner started in surprise and realized a half a second too late that he had been issuing a soft sound, rumbling from deep in his chest. He swallowed thickly, cutting off the sound. _What was wrong with him? Was he trying to give himself away?_ He straightened himself in his seat, pushing aside his thoughts. _It was that scent._ Reiner clenched his fists and willed his rising emotions to dampen. It was just a smell and just a daydream. Marcel was dead and gone and wherever the scent had come from, it had dissipated now.

The cadets around him were glancing at him with unease as he calmed himself. Bertholt was next to him on edge, Connie on his other side looked worried, and several other cadets were glancing back in concern. Jean, who sat directly in front of him glanced over his shoulder at the large blonde.

“Sorry,” Reiner said softly, just loud enough for the cadets around him to hear but not loud enough for the lecturer to notice. Most of the cadets relaxed at that, the tension easing out of them at his apology. He knew they must be wondering why he was acting so strange, but he had an easy enough excuse for it. “Must have dozed off.”

Jean twisted around in his seat to give Reiner one of his trademark grins. “Pleasant dreams?” he whispered with a leer.

The lecturer heard that one. “Am I interrupting something?” he called out cooly, eyeing Reiner and Jean.

It took all of Reiner’s willpower to call out a simpering “No, sir,” while Jean slid further down in his seat guiltily.

As soon as the lecturer started speaking again, Bertholt glanced at his friend.

“Sorry,” Reiner murmured before Bertholt could say anything. “I just thought I smelled something and it got the better of me.”

Bertholt paused, then nodded, turning back to the lecture. Reiner didn’t have to explain. He knew what happened. He probably could even smell what happened. How close Reiner had come to giving them away over something so stupid as a scent that triggered a memory. Annie’s eyes blazed knowingly from the far corner of the room but Reiner ignored her; he’d deal with that problem later. Thankfully, Connie was already back to daydreaming, Jean had turned back around to whisper to Marco, and the lecturer droned on. The only distraction was the glance Armin gave over his shoulder at Reiner, his large blue eyes watching him for a moment before turning away again.

Reiner let out a slow breath as he closed his eyes and gripped his pencil tightly. He needed to clear his mind. To forget about the smell, about Marcel, about everything. He needed to be a soldier. He needed to be everything he wasn’t -

Reiner managed to survive the remainder of the lecture in a daze. It had been a long time since he had smelled Marcel but part of him was also ashamed to think about how long it had been since he had actively thought about his friend. With all the Paradis training and Marleyan planning memories of Marcel had almost been lost in the shuffle. _Not lost,_ Reiner corrected himself, _just momentarily set aside_. He didn’t enjoy pushing the memory of Marcel back into the recesses of his mind, but sometimes it was what he had to do to avoid feeling overwhelmed.

For years Reiner had hidden the truth from the people of Paradis. The truth that he, Bertholt, and Annie were titan shifters who had infiltrated the walls.

On a good day it was hard. On a bad day it was close to impossible from losing his mind. The secrets were hard enough. Pretending he didn’t know Annie from before was surprisingly easy. Acting like he was from a hometown that didn’t exist, stealing the story of a man long since dead to aid their cover was difficult when their real childhoods bled through. Once, Bertholt had jokingly mentioned how he irrationally feared accidentally getting tangled in the electrical wires suspended between the high rises to Connie. Luckily Connie was half asleep and wasn’t paying attention so he didn’t question why a village boy like Bertholt would live near high rise buildings and what on earth electrical wires were. Reiner slipped up, too, sometimes.

It was far harder to pretend he knew nothing of the titans. It was hard to listen to people quake in terror over an enemy they didn’t understand. It was even harder to listen to people like Eren swear to destroy the creatures, not knowing that they were his very comrades, twisted and transformed beyond saving into grotesque monsters. And it was hard listening to people like Armin venture guesses about the truth, not being able to confirm or deny anything even though Reiner had the answers they desperately sought. The only time Annie ever slipped up was with Armin on a night where he was passionately trying to tell the others there were entire seas filled with salt out there, beyond the walls. Eren was outside talking to Mikasa and the dynamic duo was unable to defend Armin from ridicule until to Reiner’s surprise Annie stood up and said that she believed Armin because her grandmother had told her the same story. That was a lie. But Annie couldn’t admit that she had seen the ocean and tasted its salt without giving anything away. She slunk out guiltily after that, avoiding Reiner’s gaze. They all had moments of weakness. Reiner just seemed to have more than the other two.

“Reiner,” Bertholt said softly, startling Reiner out of his thoughts.

It took him a moment to realize the sounds of cadets eagerly surging to their feet and pushing their chairs back in surrounding him. The lecture was finally over. Reiner swallowed, trying to clear his mind once again. That wonderfully distracting scent was long gone now, the meadow it called forth buried back under reality once again. “Sorry, Bertl,” he said roughly, running a hand through his short blonde hair as he pushed himself wearily to his feet. “I just - got lost in a daydream.”

Bertholt’s hazel eyes darkened as he surveyed his friend carefully. Around them the other recruits were clamoring to leave the lecture hall and escaped back into the sunlight, away from all the stale air filled with discussions about priests and walls and dread. Anyone else wouldn’t have flinched at that. Anyone else would have laughed about a daydream. But Bertholt didn’t. Bertholt of all people knew that daydreams could be dangerous. His eyes followed Annie as she walked out of the room with the other horde of recruits; the moment she was through the door he turned back to Reiner. “Reiner,” he began, his voice already weary, already prepared for the inevitable fight.

“It’s nothing,” Reiner said quickly, trying to avoid the conversation that always followed whenever Reiner had an “episode,” as Annie liked to mockingly call them. Thankfully Bertholt was smart enough to hold off on the lecture until after Annie was gone but it still didn’t mean that Reiner wanted to listen to it. He pushed his chair in with a rough scrape trying to shrug off the entire thing. “It wasn’t anything. I - I thought I smelled something that - it smelled like Marcel.”

Bertholt froze at that, his hands gripping the edge of the table as his eyes swept the mostly empty room. “Reiner,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “You - “

“I know, I know” Reiner waved him off before he could even start. The last few weeks Bertholt had been eyeing him with increasing concern and it all the little glances and worried frowns were making his stomach twist with anxiety. “Bertl, it was just - “ He paused. He didn’t know what it was. “I was just thinking about him, alright? You don’t have to worry about it.”

Bertholt’s face remained carefully blank. Then he nodded, lowering his eyes. “I know,” he said softly. “And you’re allowed to think about him and remember him. I know - I know you two were close - “

Reiner let Bertholt’s voice falter and the words hang in the air. He let the conversation dissipate. Reiner didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about it. Because the more he thought about how much he missed Marcel the harder it became to continue being a soldier. Reiner didn’t want to admit that; Bertholt certainly didn’t want to. But the fact of the matter was that Marcel was Reiner’s anchor. And without Marcel Reiner was slipping more and more.

Reiner forced a smile to his lips and collected his notes in an easy sweep of his arms. “C’mon, Bertl. We’re going to be late for lunch if we don’t hurry up.”

“Yeah. Alright, then.” Bertholt nodded, obediently trailing after Reiner. Bertholt’s voice was cautious and careful and something about it made Reiner want to scold him for overreacting at everything. But then he remembered how carefully Bertholt had been keeping watch on him and how many times he’d come close to slipping up. He couldn’t really blame Bertholt for being concerned.

But Reiner knew him better than anyone. His best friend might be a quiet observer, but Bertholt was always thinking. Reiner just hoped Bertholt wouldn’t notice how badly he was slipping again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually started as a massive ABO SnK story that centered around Reiner, Jean, and Armin (my not-so-secret favorite grouping) but it grew to be so massive and unwieldy so I had to trim it a bit. Apologies to everyone who adores the best horse-faced member of the 104 because I had to cut most of his stuff from this particular story. But also, that means I’ll be moving it to his own series soooo perhaps that’s all for the best? 
> 
> Please, please, please leave comments and suggestions. I love constructive criticism and hearing what elements people would like to see in the story! And I have the next few chapters mostly typed up but I’m infamously slow at posting so feel free to badger me :)


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

 

 

 

Being a double agent was easier than Reiner thought. At least, it was at first.

After the trio had managed to infiltrate the walls they were still warriors. They did what they had to to blend in with the Eldian devils but they never once forgot their mission or why they were there. If anything, their mission was all they could think about. Every conversation was centered around it, every move they made was done with purpose, and there was no risk they wouldn’t take. All for the glory of Marley.

It had been Reiner’s idea to join the military. As skilled as Annie was at intimidation and hand to hand combat, she simply was unable to get close enough to the right people to find a way in to the king’s inner circle to locate the Founding Titan. Running out of options, Reiner made the executive decision to join the military so they could eventually join the Military Police. Back then, they didn’t have anyone. They had no friends, no family within the walls. Only the mission. It was easy to stay grounded then.

After they had joined the military they had one last meeting to discuss strategy. One last chance to be warriors together. Reiner and Bertholt quickly voted that Annie would be best as a lone wolf; even amongst friends she was never particularly friendly. It would be better for her to just be quiet, reserved, cold, and secretive all on her own. Reiner suggested that she keep to herself for the sake of the mission; Annie’s infiltration skills needed some work and he wasn’t about to have her blow their cover because she didn’t know how to charm the right people. Bertholt agreed to it for Annie’s sake; as the Female Titan she was currently unknown to the people of Paradis. Even if she was somehow discovered as a titan shifter (which was a highly unlikely scenario) the Eldians had no idea she was an enemy. Only the Colossal and Armored Titans haunted the islanders’ nightmares, so as long as Annie kept herself distanced from Reiner and Bertholt, she would be safe.

That left a small problem. The way the plan worked before was that Reiner was the leader, Marcel was the charmer, and Bertholt was the quiet observer. But they no longer had Marcel. And someone had to make friends with the devils. Without Marcel, they lost the charming and caring part of their group and without that empathy, they were severely weakened as an infiltration unit. So without Marcel the job fell to Reiner.

They had no other choice. Annie was, in Reiner’s opinion, probably incapable of making friends. And while Bertholt was a passionate friend to have, he was shy and reserved around strangers and his closed off attitude would only isolate their group more. That left Reiner.

He waved off Annie and Bertholt’s concerns. _It would be easy,_ he told them. All he had to do was pretend to be the Eldian devils’ friend. He could separate himself. His real self was the warrior, the man Marley had shaped Reiner into. But while in training he’d be the soldier, the friendly big brother recruit that everyone loved and looked up to. Reiner knew he could do it. Because he had to. For the glory of Marley.

When they first joined the military they trained nonstop and worked tirelessly. After weeks of endless training with minimal food and rest, the recruits were exhausted but finally starting to resemble soldiers. Most of the enthusiasm the recruits had for joining the military had waned by that point, the fatigue and stress of their daily physical regimen beginning to take its toll. Jean stopped spouting nonsense about the Military Policy and just set his face in a grimace every time they were ordered to run another lap. Thomas no longer had the energy to complain about his exhaustion (although Sasha still managed to mumble something food-related when she had the chance). Even Eren ceased his relentless shouting about killing titans in favor of training quietly instead. They were all still devoted to the cause, but the training made the recruits understandably miserable.

But not Reiner. Reiner loved the training. For the first time in his life, he was top of the class. Mikasa, of course, was ridiculously skilled and no one could best the prodigy when it came to 3DMG, but Reiner was a surprisingly close second. For the first time in his life, he was even beating Bertholt and Annie. He enjoyed it more than he wanted to admit. He had been the back up for so long that he couldn’t help but enjoy that he was finally at the top.

When they trained, Annie and Bertholt faded away and Reiner finally got to be the way he was supposed to be. The hero. The big brother. A strong and determined leader. The soldier version of Reiner was better than the warrior ever was. And he craved it. He felt like he was simply Reiner; simply himself for the first time. Not a soldier. Not a warrior. Just Reiner. He knew it was somewhat delusional. But surrounded by friends and not competitors for the first time, as well as being one of the top students, and finally being respected made Reiner almost wish he never had to stop being a solider.

That’s how he began to slip.

While Annie and Bertholt remained warriors acting the part of the soldier, Reiner became a soldier. It was inevitable that it would happen. Of the three of them Reiner was the one making friends with the other recruits, Reiner was the one forging connections and strengthening bonds. Reiner heard all the recruits’ stories, he listened to their fears, and he comforted and encouraged them every day to be better soldiers. Just like him. During their training Annie kept to herself and Bertholt remained a quiet shadow, leaving Reiner alone. And without Marcel, without the constant reminder that he was strong, that he from Marley, that he was a warrior, Reiner began to forget the facts and began to rewrite his own story.

Reiner remembered when he had first started to doubt his warrior persona. He was nearly two years into training when it first happened. He had been questioning himself for weeks, a quiet, aching process that often left him feeling empty and raw, but had never been able to sort everything out. He simply couldn’t reconcile the idea that these people were his enemy, that these people wanted to kill him, or that they were descended from monsters with the simple fact that these people were his friends, these people were good, these people were innocent. He buried his mission deeper and deeper until it was swallowed up inside of him, dormant and unrecognizable. He wanted to be with his friends. He believed in their mission. He wanted to kill all the titans and free his fellow comrades from the walls that caged them.

In retrospect, much of it was Armin’s fault. He was so little. So weak. No one would ever dream of comparing him and Reiner. But out of everyone in the 104 Reiner saw himself the most in Armin. The struggle. The determination. The weakness. Reiner knew all too well what it was like trying to prove oneself to a group that only doubted you. He remembered those days all too well. So Reiner went out of his way to help him. Even when it made him forget that he was a warrior. It was the empathy that started to confuse him. He saw Armin as a good person; a human and not a devil; a brother and a kindred spirit. He forgot Armin was the enemy.

Reiner the warrior started to slip away the more he helped Armin. The more he comforted Eren. The more he helped the 104 be the best soldiers they could be. Bertholt and Annie thought it was part of the cover that he was adopting. They didn’t realize he was slipping until it was too late.

Bertholt mentioned their mission one day. And Reiner had reeled from it, his brain trying to comprehend what Bertholt was saying. He forgot things like that occasionally. He told himself it was a coping mechanism and didn’t mention it to anyone else. But this time he was a little too slow. Slow enough that Bertholt noticed. Because Bertholt had suddenly realized that Reiner had forgotten about their mission. Forgotten about Marley. Forgotten that they were warriors.

Reiner had ignored Bertholt the rest of the day. He hadn’t really forgotten. No one could forget something like that entirely. He simply had buried it deep within himself but Bertholt’s quiet reminder was enough to unearth all the horrors and bring them back up again. Reiner had been doing just fine acting his part as a soldier and friend to the cadets. And with a simple reminder he was reduced to a quivering mess of anxiety. He couldn’t look at his friends, knowing that he was going to hurt them. But he couldn’t look at Bertholt either. Every time he saw his friend’s face he could hear his voice saying terrible things. Telling him about terrible crimes. And when he looked at Bertholt’s tall form he could imagine him skinless and steaming.

It wasn’t Bertholt’s fault. None of it was. But Reiner could feel himself slipping from reality and Bertholt’s monstrous titan was the easiest thing to blame. It’s what everyone always blamed. Everyone whispered fearful stories about the Colossal titan; they looked to the top of the wall and prayed they wouldn’t see its shadow looming over. Reiner hated that the most. Because he knew deep down even though everyone hated Bertholt’s titan, he himself had actually committed the worst crime. Bertholt may have kicked down Shinganshina’s wall but Reiner opened up Wall Maria. His actions caused the famine. Caused the extermination of such a staggering number of people. He did that. It was Reiner who literally opened the door for the titans to come in.

It was easier to forget. It was so easy to pretend Marley didn’t exist, that his hometown was a small village far away that no one had heard of instead of the truth of being from an enemy nation trying to destroy his friends or that his so-called hometown was actually a story stolen from a suicide victim. It was so much easier to laugh at Connie at dinner when he wasn’t thinking about what Connie’s corpse might look like half-eaten and bloody. It was easier to help Armin with his training when he didn’t have to picture him strewn across a field in pieces; easier to wash dishes alongside Jean without picturing what he’d look like with glassy, unseeing eyes, his mouth parted in surprise and pain instead of his trademark smirk.

A crazed part of Reiner wanted to apologize. He wanted to do something to make it better. But what would he say? _Sorry your village ran out of food, Sasha. Sorry your mom died, Eren. Sorry your family’s dead, Armin. Sorry you all live in fear._

Reiner fell apart. He struggled to hold himself together, to keep the warrior and the soldier in a state of balance within himself, but he was beginning to crumble. Every story he told himself contradicted the last. Every coping mechanism was a lie based on more lies. After a while his mind was spinning just trying to remember who and what he was. Was he the big brother who protected everyone? Was he the weakling who was undeserving of the Armored Titan? Was he a murderer or a hero? He didn’t know anymore.

The day he finally broke they were on their way to yet another lesson. He was walking amongst a tired but chattering crowd of recruits on to more 3DMG training when he suddenly stopped. He was aware of the other recruits giving him strange looks, he was aware of the others moving around him, he dimly heard a few of them call out his name but to Reiner everything seemed slow and distorted, as if he were underwater. It made sense, in many ways. For a long time, he had felt like he was drowning.

Reiner turned away from the training grounds. His heart was beating wildly and he didn’t know how to stop it. Worse, he didn’t know what he was going to do. Reiner closed his eyes, feeling the strange tingly sensation lurking under his skin. Skin that could harden into impenetrable armor. Skin that could light up like lightning when he transformed. He swallowed, suddenly feeling hot. He was losing control but no longer knew how to stop it. What if he just transformed here and now? What if his body started emitting steam, revealing himself for the enemy that he was? What if he just ran away and no one would ever have to know?

He knew he probably looked insane. He felt unhinged. He felt confused. He knew he’d be punished, he knew Shadis would have him running laps for hours, but he didn’t care. He had to get away. He had to sort out what was real and what was a lie before he was consumed with doubt. His mind spun, uncertain of what to hold on to as truth. He needed help but there was no one to turn to. He needed Marcel. He needed someone strong, someone to comfort him, someone to submit to him so he’d remember his place as an alpha warrior and not some confused, sympathetic soldier. Reiner could barely contain his sudden, uncharacteristic panic and he bolted, fleeing back to the barracks for a moment of peace. Reiner had been strong for years, surely he was allowed a day of weakness?

He ran into the barracks and collapsed against his bunk, breathing heavily. He needed to figure out what he was. Was it all just a dream and Reiner was a soldier? Or was he really a warrior? Was he really everyone’s enemy? He wished more than anything that Marcel were with him. He wished someone would comfort him, would tell him everything would be alright, would reassure him that he was doing the right thing. Because he didn’t know what he was doing anymore.

“Reiner!” a familiar voice called out behind him.

Reiner spun around and found himself face to face with Bertholt.

“Reiner?” Bertholt’s voice was soft and cautious and though his eyes were filled with concern and deep down in their pits, Reiner could almost see the sizzle of lightning sparking there. Bertholt was not so weak-willed as everyone thought. It was a cover in many ways, just like Reiner’s brotherly persona was. Cover or not, these parts of them were still real. But Reiner’s affectionate and caring nature could crumble and give way to a cold and calculating warrior just as Bertholt’s passivity could suddenly snap into an fiery determination. Now, though, Bertholt’s eyes were wide with concern, the beautiful glimmer of care shining in their depths as he surveyed Reiner. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Reiner murmured, trying not to worry his friend. Few people were able to appreciate Bertholt’s quiet presence, as reassuring to Reiner in his human shape as he was terrifying to the citizens behind the walls in his Colossal form. There was something more to Bertholt, something that Reiner always wished other people would realize and understand, but that few ever did. Part of him hoped that Annie would one day see it too but he knew as well as the other recruits that she was too apathetic to really notice something like that. Maybe, he should be more like Annie. But it was too late for that now. Reiner had already made up his persona, already woven his identity around it. It was too late to not care.

Bertholt had known immediately that Reiner wasn’t fine. He knew with a single look but Reiner’s voice confirmed it beyond the shadow of a doubt. “Reiner,” his voice was a whisper, careful and steady as he glanced around the barracks to ensure they were completely empty. “You’re not alright.”

Reiner turned away from him, shaking. He didn’t want Bertholt to see him like this. He didn’t want Bertholt to see him when he wasn’t strong. A part of him knew it wouldn’t matter if he broke into a million pieces here, but somehow the concept of sobbing in front of Bertholt was far more terrifying than steaming in front of the recruits. “Just go,” he said roughly, pressing his arm against the wall, trying to calm his wildly beating heart.

Bertholt paused, no doubt noticing the shaking of Reiner’s shoulders, and took a hesitant step forward, his features softening. “Before we came here,” Bertholt said in a soft, gentle voice, “I never thought it would be this difficult.”

Reiner closed his eyes tightly and nodded, not trusting himself to speak. No one - not even Annie - thought they it would be this hard to want to complete their mission. The so-called devils they grew up hating were far too human for any of their likings. But what choice did they have now?

“I know it’s hard. I know - what we’re doing - what we’ve done - ” Bertholt’s voice stopped abruptly. “It’s an impossible situation. But we can’t stop now, Reiner,” Bertholt said gently, as if he had read Reiner’s mind. Bertholt was always uncannily perceptive, especially when it came to Reiner. “We have a mission to complete. And we’re almost there. We have to stay strong. Think of the people we left behind at home. Think of your mother - ”

“I know,” Reiner hissed, whirling around to face Bertholt and blinking hard to stop the tears from welling in his eyes. “I do! Every night. But - ” He hesitated, the question he had been turning over and over in his head tumbling to his lips before he could stop it. “But what if we’re wrong? They - they don’t seem like demons.”

Bertholt froze at that, his body rigid as he stood before Reiner. Slowly, he reached out and grasped Reiner’s shoulders and for a moment, Reiner thought he would shake him or punch him, pin him down and force him to remember their mission. But Bertholt - sweet, kind Bertholt - gathered him into a hug and pulled him tightly to his warm body, surprising Reiner. He and Bertholt were always together but rarely actually touched. Bertholt was the watchful shadow and Marcel was the affectionate one in their group. And with Marcel’s death Reiner had been starved for touch for a long time. Without thinking, he leaned into the heat of Bertholt’s body and let Bertholt hold him.

Bertholt’s arms tightened around him. “I’m sorry,” Bertholt murmured into Reiner’s shoulder, his body slightly hunched to fit his tall frame into Reiner more properly. “I know this has been hardest for you.”

Reiner closed his eyes, letting himself fall into Bertholt’s warm embrace without thinking. His mind finally began to settle and the world wasn’t spinning out of control quite as fast as it was before. Bertholt. Sweet, wonderful Bertholt. He wasn’t Marcel but he was a source of strength and comfort. He was someone Reiner could trust. Reiner sighed, finally relaxing and it took him another moment to realize what Bertholt had said. “W-what do you mean?”

Bertholt pulled back and looked at him, pity in his eyes that Reiner had never noticed before. He hesitated. “First you lost Marcel and - and now you have to act like a friend to everyone.” Bertholt shook his head. “Annie can detach, I can be quiet and ignored, but you’re surrounded by them. You have to take care of them, talk to them, interact with them. You have to do both yours and Marcel’s jobs. Of course that’s going to make everything harder for you.” Bertholt paused, his eyes bright as Reiner stared at him wildly. “I don’t blame you for struggling, Reiner. It’s alright.”

Reiner looked down, unable to meet Bertholt’s gaze. Maybe Bertholt was right. Maybe he was just letting sentimentality creep into his mind. Maybe he just needed to remind himself of who he was. “I’m sorry, Bertholt,” he whispered miserably.

“For what?”

“For being so weak.” Reiner looked up and gave a halfhearted smile. “Marcel always told me that he’d help me stay strong, but - ” He shook his head hopelessly. “Lately I just can’t seem to keep things straight.” He dropped his gaze. “I wish he were still here.”

Bertholt hesitated at that but didn’t pull away and remained close to Reiner. Close enough that Reiner could practically taste Bertholt’s scent; it was gentle and woodsy and comforted him greatly. Gently, Bertholt reached up and ran his fingers through Reiner’s short blonde hair comfortingly, a gesture he had never made before but that calmed Reiner significantly. “I miss him, too,” he murmured softly, letting Reiner lean into his touch.

“I - I don’t know if I can do this without him,” Reiner whispered into the fabric of Bertholt’s shirt, too ashamed to say the words clearly.

Bertholt didn't seem to mind.  “Marcel would have wanted you to complete your mission,” Bertholt said, his voice so quiet Reiner had to strain to hear it. “He believed in you. And he believed that you could do this and make Marley proud.”

“I know,” Reiner whispered, part of him breaking again. “I know but I - I just wish he were here. I need him. I need - ” _What did he need?_ He needed Marcel’s gentle reassurances, he needed Marcel’s ability to anchor him to the warrior he needed to be. He needed that tight heat wrapped around him until all thought and questions bled from his mind and he was left as a warrior and nothing more. “Bertl,” he whimpered, his limbs shaking as a pulse of hormones rolled through his body. _No, not now. Not here. Not without Marcel._ Reiner hissed softly, trying to get himself under control while Bertholt stiffened next to him, his eyes wary and alert.

And suddenly Bertholt melted away and Reiner was standing with Marcel - sweet, loving Marcel - who whispered to Reiner about making him strong, who always submitted to him when Reiner needed him to. A part of Reiner shattered, fracturing into pieces so that everything was spinning so wildly out of control that he no longer knew where he was or who he was. All he could hear was the pounding of his blood in his ears and Marcel’s voice murmuring, _I’ll submit to you_. Reiner’s body ached with need and he felt his cock thicken with arousal, desperately needing to claim something or someone. If he could just claim one piece for himself, have one part of himself be the foundation, perhaps he could reassemble the pieces back together and make sense of everything again -

Reiner was shaking violently, unable to figure out how to stop it. “Bertholt,” he had whispered roughly, not knowing what else to say. “Please - _please_ \- ” Without thinking, Reiner surged forward to Bertholt and kissed him.

He kissed Bertholt hard and passionately and by the time he pulled away Bertholt’s lips were dark, his face flushed, and his mouth glistened wetly. The trickle of saliva on his lips and his glazed expression made Reiner even harder, desire bubbling over into lust. Pheromones that were usually dulled into nonthreatening scents were now wafting off Bertholt in waves, each surge screaming to Reiner _alpha, alpha, alpha, alpha._ And Reiner wasn’t far gone enough to fool himself into thinking that Bertholt was calling to him. No, Bertholt’s body was warning him. Warning him that this was an alpha. Warning him that everything he was doing was wrong. But he didn’t care. It was wrong to befriend people you were going to kill. It was wrong to cause the deaths of thousands and pretend that it was fine. And it was wrong to try to force his alpha friend to submit. He was used to doing things that were wrong.

Bertholt was panting, weakly trying to catch his breath. He was stunned. Reiner had never showed interest in Bertholt before and Reiner knew that Bertholt was in love with Annie and had no interest in men. They were friends and nothing more. And to complicate matters, Reiner and Bertholt were both alphas. Even if Bertholt did have a romantic interest in Reiner, it would never work. Bertholt stared at Reiner’s wild and dazed expression. _What would compel him to do this?_ Bertholt wasn’t Marcel. Reiner couldn’t be with him in the same way or take the same comforts. He wasn’t willing to submit in the same way.

“I’m sorry,” Reiner murmured after they pulled apart and he felt a sudden push of shame in his chest. Bertholt wasn’t Marcel. He wasn’t Reiner’s lover, he wasn’t his anchor. He was his friend. And had Reiner just jeopardized that. He took a deep breath to calm himself, pull himself back together, to dampen his alpha instincts to claim and looked at Bertholt.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” Reiner said again when Bertholt remained in a stunned silence, “I - I don’t know why I did that. I - I just - ”

Bertholt looked away, down at his hands. He didn’t seem upset or angry, just pensive and accepting. As if he knew this day would eventually come. He took in a deep breath. “Reiner,” Bertholt breathed softly, “what are you?”

Reiner reeled at the question. He couldn’t really remember what the answer was supposed to be. “Wh-what? Bertholt, I - ”

“Are you a solider? Or a warrior?”

Bertholt was watching him carefully and Reiner felt his throat constrict. He didn’t know what Bertholt wanted. Some part of him knew what he was supposed to say, but another part of him whispered doubts. Everything in Marley was a lie. Everything he knew was false. But here, here in Paradis his friends were real. There was a genuineness to this place that all of Reiner’s other memories lacked. An anchor securing him to everything here. His mother had lied to him. His father refused to acknowledge his existence. Even when he tried his very hardest, he barely passed training. He only received the Armored Titan through Marcel’s manipulations. And Marcel? Marcel lied to him and used him. He probably didn’t even love Reiner. It was all a ruse.

But here? Here on Paradis no one lied to make him feel better. They spoke the truth, honest and harsh. They told him he was a good soldier and he believed it because they also told him when he needed to improve. There was no sense in lying, no point in conjuring up half truths to comfort him. If he was such a mistake in Marley, maybe he wouldn’t be a mistake here. “I - I don’t know.”

Bertholt’s hand clenched into fists and a strange panicked look flared in his usually calm gaze. “Answer me!”

“I - ” For a moment Reiner almost answered “soldier.” There was nothing Bertholt could do about it, anyways. Even if he and Annie abandoned the mission and went home, they couldn’t force Reiner to go with them. He could be a soldier for the rest of his days, helping his friends, fighting for what was right, and being a good soldier. A reliable solider. But before he could speak he drew a breath in and he smelled it. Not that wondrous sweet smell that reminded him of Marcel. Bertholt’s scent. His friend. He could taste Bertholt on his lips still and a part of him longed for that. Reiner never wanted to let down the people he cared about. And the only person who knew him totally was Bertholt.

Bertholt had seen him at his best and seen him at his worst and still stood by his side, still defended him, still told him that he could succeed. If his friends on Paradis knew the real Reiner they’d kill him in a moment. And if his Marleyan officers found about his hesitation, they’d decommission him instantly. But Bertholt, sweet, gentle Bertholt who kept all of Reiner’s secrets, hid all of his weaknesses, and still managed to smile and tell everyone how reliable and strong Reiner was, was Reiner’s only friend. The only person he could trust. And the only person worth protecting.

Reiner let out a slow breath. “Sorry, Bertl,” he murmured, his head finally clearing. “I’m a warrior.”

Bertholt looked like he could collapse in relief. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, surprising Reiner.

“Why? Bertholt, this is - this is all my fault. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to keep it together - ”

“No, it’s not your fault.” Bertholt stepped away, looking weary and somewhat relieved to create some distance between their flushed bodies. “You’ve always needed an anchor to help you remember. To keep you an alpha and to keep you a warrior.” He sighed, looking anywhere but Reiner. “After Marcel, I - I thought that maybe you figured out a way to do it on your own. Or that you really had become Marcel and that you would be fine. But - but when you started forgetting things, I knew that was a problem. I knew there was a problem and I ignored it, hoping it would go away on its own.” He looked up at Reiner with a pained expression. “I’m sorry.”

“No, Bertl. It’s - that’s my fault. My burden.” He fumbled over his words, trying to figure out what to say. _So Bertholt knew he was losing it. Bertholt knew that without Marcel he wasn’t really a warrior. Bertholt knew the truth and wasn’t rejecting him for it._ “I’m sorry, Bertholt,” he said again, not really knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry that I - I shouldn’t have - ”

Bertholt held up his hands. “It’s fine, Reiner.” He looked like he would rather pretend that whatever had just transpired had never happened.

Reiner swallowed and gave a curt nod. Now that his head was clear he could think clearly again. “I’ll - I’ll try to be stronger. I promise.”

Bertholt smiled weakly. “It’s alright, Reiner.”

They both knew it wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look! I actually posted a second chapter.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!!
> 
> Note: I updated the tags to include underage. The next chapter will feature some Reiner/Marcel and technically they were barely teenagers when all that went down. And actually, they're all still teenagers soooo I figured I should probably add the tag.


	3. Chapter 3

 

Alright, here’s Chapter 3!  

This one is Reiner/Marcel heavy.  Is it super explicit?  No, but sex is certainly mentioned.  Is it my best writing?  Not at all.  Sorry in advance but I'm horrible at writing flashback scenes but I felt that this one was necessary.  But don't worry, after this chapter the Reiner/Bertholt stuff will start to ramp up and you'll get some proper smut :) 

 

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

Note: I might have messed with the timeline a bit but whatever changes I made are pretty marginal.

Additional Continuity Note: I realize that I wasn’t capitalizing ABO but someone pointed out to me that I should? So I’m going to start doing so this chapter.

 

___________________

 

It was never supposed to be like this.

Everything he did was for the glory of Marley. And when he was young, he really did believe in that. He believed his mother, who murmured sweet reassurances that he would one day make them proud, he believed her when she said that his father prayed for his success and that the people of Marley praised him for his sacrifice. He believed his commanding officers when they said he would restore honor to his people and that all of Marley would one day know and appreciate his deeds. And he believed his friends when they told him that he would earn a place amongst the titan shifters, that he was strong, that he would one day show all of them his might. How could he not believe them? How could he not know how wrong he was?

Reiner had started training back when most Marleyans were learning how to read. He was learning to fight at the same time other children were playing games in the schoolyards, he learned to throw a punch when most children learned to tie their shoes. When he was unable to play with the other children because he was too busy training he didn’t feel upset or isolated. He felt proud. Proud that he had an opportunity to be a hero. Proud that he could one day save his people and the great nation of Marley from the threat of the Eldian devils.

Reiner needed to be a hero. But more than that; he needed to purge himself of his Eldian devil blood. Then he could have his family back: he and his mother could live in the city proper without armbands, without fear. And they could live with his father. They could all be together again as a family, just like he had always dreamed of. He would show them all one day. He knew he would. And despite the worry he sometimes caught in his mother’s eyes and the strange looks of pity some of the soldiers gave him as he hauled himself to the training grounds every morning before sunrise, he didn’t mind it. He liked feeling like he was doing the right thing. He liked knowing he could be a warrior and make his mother happy. He liked the idea of being a hero. _Reiner the hero._ He liked the sound of that.

He was ten when he managed to make it into the elite training class for eligible titan shifters. There weren’t many of them but that was just fine with Reiner. As training wore on, many dropped out. Some were injured and had to quit. Some of them failed their tests or said the wrong thing and the Marleyan officers asked them to leave. But not Reiner. Reiner kept training, kept going, kept pushing himself.

Reiner pushed himself as hard as he could and while he was never the best in his class, he was never the worst, either. He tried to not feel a twinge of joy every time another student dropped out or was cut from the class. He tried to keep training harder, keeping his eye on his goal. Finally, they were left with six; just enough students for just enough positions with one extra student to either provide motivation to train harder or as a backup in case someone had an accident: himself, Bertholt, Annie, Marcel, Pieck, and Porco.

Reiner was proud to be included in the final list of potential shifters but also was furious that he barely made it in. _Last place._ There was something about Reiner that just didn’t seem to work. He was strong, he was patriotic, and he was a leader. But he was also the back up. The alternate. Good enough to get in but not great enough to be chosen. It fueled his determination to do better.

Together the six were sent to their own private training facility, away from their families and away from the scorn of living in the Eldian interment zones. It was also easier to keep an eye on the recruits there. They were told to expect more training, even more intense and rigorous than what they’ve had before. Even Reiner was apprehensive about that. But they did it. They had to prove their worth. And Reiner especially was determined to prove his. Especially because rumors had been circulating that Marley was planning a mission to Paradis and would need its titan shifters soon. Reiner couldn’t wait to prove himself. He was ready.

Of the other recruits who had made it to the final round of training, Reiner was most thrilled that his best friend, sweet little Bertholt - who was always tangled in his own limbs - had made it that far, too. They had grown up down the street from one another and knew each before training. If anything, training had brought them closer together. The small but formidable girl, Annie, was quiet and tough and focused in a way that Reiner both admired and feared. Pieck was strange and often acted dazed, but she was smarter than all of them and despite her calculating intelligence, she was at least nice as well. Marcel and Porco were also excellent recruits but couldn’t have been more different. Marcel was kind and gentle but could command the other recruits in a way someone like Bertholt never could; but Porco was wild, spirited, and unpredictable. And despite Reiner’s friendship with Bertholt, there was something about Marcel that drew Reiner to him. Something he couldn’t quite pin down.

Even now, so many years later, in his dreams Reiner could still hear Marcel’s voice, gentle and kind, murmuring to him in the night, _don’t worry, everything’s going to be alright. You just need to be strong. Be strong for me, Reiner. I need you to be strong for me._

He never really understood it. For the longest time, he wondered why Marcel chose, of all things, to say that to him. Yes, Reiner was last in his class, but he wasn’t weak. Weakness was never his problem. He simply wasn’t the best in any category. But he was strong in all. And yet Marcel murmured that to him. _Be strong for me._

Although he had known Bertholt since they were very small, the closeness he felt with Marcel was different. It wasn’t built up through years of staying up late whispering in the darkness or eating supper at each other’s houses; it wasn’t the sort of friendship that required building or proximity the way Reiner and Bertholt’s friendship had grown. In fact, he wasn’t even that close to Marcel through their initial training. Marcel mostly stayed with his brother while Bertholt was constantly at Reiner’s side; but in the rare moments that Marcel and Reiner intersected, they were both too focused on attaining their own goals to look out for each other.

No, Marcel and Reiner didn’t start out close. But the moment the Marleyan officer shouted “You pass!” at Marcel, things changed. Marcel suddenly started to pay attention to him. And suddenly Reiner found himself with a new friend who actually wanted him to succeed, who actually wanted him to become a shifter. Of course Bertholt wanted him to pass as well, but Bertholt had to focus on himself first. Reiner never blamed him for that. And in many ways he was thankful because it left more time for Marcel to help him.

Or, at least, that was how he liked to think of it now. Back then he was just a child. He didn’t understand such things. All he knew was that Marcel and him were friends and that was all that mattered to him.

_Be strong for me._

Reiner still didn’t understand it. Did Marcel think he was weak? He didn’t know. He would never know, now that Marcel was dead. But still, deep in the night of the recruit training barracks deep in the walls of Paradis, the words echoed through Reiner’s mind, prickling at his consciousness. _What did he need to be strong for?_ It bothered Reiner. It bothered Reiner, even now, even with so much more to deal with than he ever could have anticipated before.

Later, Zeke would be appointed the leader of the titan shifters. But Zeke was far older than the rest of them and so during training he was never present with the children. Marcel was their real leader. Marcel was the oldest of the recruits and he was the one who took care of everyone, who excelled the best, and who everyone trusted and looked up to. Every night Marcel would make sure Porco was taken care of before moving to his own bed. He’d smile down at Bertholt, sometimes even touch his shoulder, and then he’d come to Reiner. He always saved Reiner for last. And every night Marcel would wrap an arm around him, squeezing Reiner to his frame and whisper the words. _Be strong for me._

 

___________________

 

A year after the recruits were moved to the titan training facility they got a visit from a Marleyan officer they had never seen before who was carrying a locked silver briefcase. He sat the recruits down and explained that soon the recruits would receive the honor of inheriting a titan. At the time Reiner didn’t think anything of it, but now that he was older when he looked back it was almost laughable it was that a mission of such importance was being given to mere children. But at the time no one laughed. Everyone was solemn and serious and ready for the next chapter of their lives to begin.

The officer explained that Marley was preparing a mission for them to take place within the next two years. Which meant they would need to decide who would receive the titan serum as soon as possible in order to allow the chosen recruits time to train in their titan forms as well. The officer explained that there was one more test they needed from the recruits before Marley selected who would inherit the titan powers.

At that point the officer could have told the recruits he needed them to chop their own hands off and they would have done it. All six of them were desperate to be chosen, desperate to have a chance at a better life, determined to prove their worth to a country that despised them. They would have done anything.

But the test the officer wanted to administer was far simpler and something that none of them had any control over. He calmly explained that every titan shifter had a series of unique abilities: some could harden their skin like diamonds, some could create weapons and projectiles, some could even release superheated steam from their skin. These abilities were all tools for the shifters to use in their mission. That, coupled with their size, strength, and regenerative abilities was the advantage to being a titan shifter.

There were, however, some drawbacks. The recruits already knew about the shortened lifespan. To children, thirteen years was an eternity so they didn’t think anything of it. But there was another problem, _a side effect,_ as the officer called it. The officer explained that when Eldians became titan shifters they also developed something called a dynamic. And, just as shifters were able to use their titan regenerative abilities in their human forms, the dynamic they would develop also would remain present while they were human.

The officer told them that all Eldians used to be born with a dynamic, but after years of living amongst the civilized Marleyans, their animalistic instincts faded and their dynamics dulled into dormancy. But once injected with the titan serum that gave them the power to become a titan, their dynamic suddenly surfaced again. The officer explained that it was because titan shifters held savage, bestial monsters inside themselves and that’s why after the serum was injected the human shifter always presented with a dynamic. It was a sacrifice, of course, to live with such a curse. But it was a necessary one.

He explained that there were three types of titan dynamics. Betas were neutral and were common among regular Eldians thousands of years ago but generally weren’t titan shifters. Omegas, sweet small things, were rare, beautiful creatures made entirely for the pleasure of Alphas. And Alphas, strong commanding figures, were always in charge and always entrusted with the most dangerous tasks which is why all titan shifters needed to present as an Alpha.

The officer opened his briefcase and showed the recruits six syringes nestled in the case, all filled with a clear liquid. For a moment the recruits thought they had all passed and were going to receive their titan serum, but the officer quickly corrected them. He explained the syringes contained a different serum, designed to draw out their natural dynamic as they hit puberty so that Marley would know what each recruits natural dynamic was before administering the real titan serum. After all, Marley wasn’t going to waste its precious titan serum on a recruit if they turned out to be a worthless Omega.

The officer explained that in addition to physical tests, mental competency exams, and a number of other tests, the recruits would be evaluated on whichever dynamic they presented with. He looked around the room of hopefuls and told them not to worry. While the dynamic they presented with was something they couldn’t control, it was also developed as a result of the subject’s personality, physicality, and a number of other factors. He faltered at explaining the sexual characteristics of dynamics, as if he finally remembered that he was talking to a room of prepubescent children.

Again, the recruits nodded and agreed without fully understanding what the officer was talking about. They just knew that no matter what Marley needed from them, they would be happy to provide.

The officer seemed pleased at their eager obedience and didn’t question if they really understood what they were signing up for. He probably didn’t care, either.

The officer had lead them to a separate room with a medical officer waiting to give the recruits their injections.

The shots didn’t hurt but they gave everyone strange dreams. The medical officers continued to monitor the recruits for a few more weeks and then they vanished, apparently satisfied that their work was done. Now, all anyone had to do was wait while the candidates continued to train, determined to earn their respective spot.

All Reiner retained from the meeting was that when he presented with a dynamic, he absolutely needed to be an Alpha. It was just one more thing he had to prove. One more chance he had to show the Marleyans that he was worthy. After all, if anyone of their group was going to be an Alpha, why wouldn’t it be him?

 

___________________

 

It was around this time that Marcel started to notice Reiner and started to look out for him. They were simple gestures at first: a saved seat, a reassuring smile, a quick scolding to Porco when he mocked Reiner’s performance. They were simple gestures but they meant the world to Reiner. He knew Bertholt always had his back, but Bertholt was also a quiet boy and didn’t stand up for Reiner the way Marcel did. Bertholt’s approval simply wasn’t worth as much as the group leader’s. And he didn’t smile at Reiner or touch his shoulder or whisper words of encouragement in the night the way Marcel did.

_Be strong for me._

Training dragged on, getting more and more intense as it went. And a year before their graduation, Marcel was the first to present. He was the second oldest of the group, save for Zeke who was his own special case and never really trained with them anyways. And, like Zeke, Marcel presented as an Alpha. None of the Marleyans were particularly surprised by that. Zeke was happy and Porco was thrilled because he liked to pretend it was a predictor of his own eventual dynamic. The officers all grinned strangely at Marcel as he was escorted away, flushed and confused.

Reiner wasn’t sure what happened when Marcel left for a week. His rut, they called it. He heard other soldiers joking about Marcel drowning in pussy and a number of other lewd comments, but he didn’t quite understand. He was twelve and still too young to know what it all meant, although he had a vague understanding. When he finally asked Bertholt one day, Bertholt just blushed and said it meant Marcel was strong and good at giving orders. Reiner accepted that answer. Because Marcel was.

Marcel didn’t talk about what happened the week he was gone and he didn’t once speak of what happened once he received his titan serum. Reiner thought there might be more pomp and celebration around Marley gaining a new shifter but if anything the ceremony was subdued and private. Even the recruits didn’t attend. When Marcel returned days later he only smiled sheepishly and said he honestly couldn’t remember much.

Training went on. Reiner finally hit puberty and began to rapidly grow; his shoulders grew broader, his body taller, his voice deeper. He grew much stronger and he could tell his commanding officers were pleased by that. Porco was furious, as he was a year younger than Reiner and remained small and wiry. Reiner took pride in his strength. The others began to take his determination a lot more seriously. They stopped calling him the Back Up. Annie asked to spar with him. Bertholt spent his free time at the shooting range with him to improve his aim.

And Marcel spent far more time with him. He helped Reiner, helped him fight, helped him train, helped him study. And some part of Reiner was happy because Marcel and him were growing closer. There was something about their closeness that pleased his hormone-inundated mind and made parts of him flush uncomfortably at the thought. And another part of him was happy because between him and Porco, Marcel chose to help him. To train him. It was as if Marcel had figured out that Reiner was going to be selected as a shifter. Marcel chose Reiner over his own brother and some part of him swelled with pride at the thought.

After Marcel presented the officers said the others would probably soon present as well. They claimed it had to do with their ages and all the pheromones and once one presented the others would quickly follow. Again, Reiner didn’t fully understand but he accepted that he had limited time left to prove himself as an Alpha and a worthy titan shifter candidate. While Marcel left the group for special titan shifter training, Reiner continued to train as a human, even in his down time. He needed to earn this.

Pieck presented next and Reiner didn’t even hear that she was a Beta until weeks later because unlike Marcel the officers didn’t whoop and jeer at her when she was escorted away. Annie presented next and everyone immediately knew she was an Alpha; Reiner didn’t even have to ask. The Marleyans were almost giddy with glee at how the recruits were presenting. They now had three Alphas and a Beta. And while they were fine with a Beta or so, what they really wanted were Alphas. That made Reiner nervous.

One night, he whispered his insecurities to Marcel. He had waited until everyone was asleep before he could murmur his fears in the darkness of the barracks. He waited until Porco was snoring and Bertholt was sprawled out in his strange sleeping contortions before he crept to Marcel’s bed. Marcel’s eyes opened before Reiner even said a word as if he could sense Reiner’s approach. Maybe he could. Without a word, Marcel followed Reiner out to the courtyard of the training grounds where it was quiet and dark and no one would hear them. It had been a cool evening so most of the guards were huddled up, not bothering to give them a second glance. And he told Marcel his deepest fear: that he was going to present as a Beta and he wouldn’t be chosen.

And Marcel hadn’t laughed. Reiner thanked every ancestor he had that Marcel hadn’t laughed at that. He watched Reiner was a serious expression, looking almost pained. But after a moment he drew in a deep breath and smiled, washing away Reiner’s concern.

 _You don’t know that,_ Marcel had said gently, reaching up to rub the hinge of his jaw as if it were sore. It was a new habit of his since he had received his titan powers.

But Reiner had insisted that he did. He could _feel_ it. As much as he felt like a true leader, a true Marleyan, he also knew that there was a part of him that wasn’t good enough to be chosen. He was always the back up. And he knew that’s the hand he’d be dealt with this, too. It had been so beaten into him that he knew his body would betray him this one last time. He had the mind of a warrior but the body of a Beta and nothing anyone said would ever change that.

Reiner knew he sounded childish, he knew he sounded like anything but an Alpha, but he just needed to know that he had a shot. He needed to hear it from someone. _What if he wasn’t an Alpha?_ Being a Beta wasn’t bad, but it also meant that being passed wasn’t a guarantee. His scores were too middling for that. He needed to present with the right dynamic or they would hold him back as the alternate. And Reiner didn’t think he could handle that. He was meant to be an Alpha. He was meant to be a leader and make decisions and command men. He knew everything that being an Alpha meant was meant for him. Being made a titan shifter would solve all his problems; it would bring his father back and make his family whole again.

Marcel had paused again, considering. Then he smiled and wrapped his arms around Reiner comfortingly. And in the darkness of that warm night he murmured that even if Reiner was a potential Beta right now, he still had time to change that and present as a different dynamic. His dynamic wasn’t set in stone just yet. He could still be an Alpha. He just needed to act like it more.

Marcel held him close and whispered, _Don’t worry. Just be strong for me, Reiner. You’ll be an Alpha. I know you will._

Reiner pushed Marcel away in anger at that. _I am strong! I’ve always been strong but it’s not enough!_

Marcel smiled sadly at that. And he wrapped his arms around Reiner again, pressing his too-warm body against him in a way that made Reiner flush in confusion and made his heart beat rapidly. Marcel held Reiner in the courtyard, not caring who might see and told Reiner again not to worry because he was going to help Reiner become an Alpha like he was supposed to because Marcel knew a way to change a recruit’s dynamic to the correct one.

And when Reiner stared at him in confusion because what could Marcel possibly do to change that? Marcel gently nuzzled against Reiner’s neck and whispered quietly into his ear, _I’ll submit to you._

Reiner’s blood boiled at that. They were young, so young, prepubescent and starting to receive surges of hormones they couldn’t fathom. Reiner wasn’t sure what this phrase meant either but something about it made his heart pound even more wildly in his chest. None of it made sense. If Marcel was an Alpha, then he was good at giving commands, not submitting to them. Reiner tried to push for an answer, but Marcel had vanished into the night, slipping back into the barracks and into his own bed. Reiner’s head buzzed all night, that phrase circling through his mind until he felt dizzy. _Why did he care?_ Reiner didn’t understand why it affected him that way, but it did.

Reiner trained harder. He had to be selected. He couldn’t lose. He couldn’t bare the shame. And every night, Marcel murmured in the near darkness of the barracks, _I’ll submit to you._ It was strange, how much effect such a meaningless phrase had on Reiner. But it meant something to him. Something he wasn’t quite sure of. So while the other trainees continued to improve slowly but steadily, Reiner began to improve markedly and he never made the connection. He saw Porco’s looks, the scathing comments, the suspicious gaze, but it didn’t matter. He was doing better than Porco. And he let him know. And every night Marcel still murmured, _I’ll submit to you._

Now they were quickly approaching their final graduation, in which the Marleyan generals would select who would receive the titan powers and time was running out for the remaining three. Their commanding officers issued reports of everyone’s progress. Annie and Marcel were surefire candidates. They were too good to ignore and the moment they were declared as Alphas, Marley passed them. Pieck was odd and as a Beta she might have been chosen as an alternate but her intelligence and skills at analysis were of extreme value so she was passed as well. Reiner had a strong suspicion that Zeke had something to do with that since they worked so well together. Besides, they couldn’t have all of them act as leaders; someone needed to follow.

Bertholt presented a week after Annie as an Alpha, to almost everyone's surprise. After that, plus his marksmanship test, he was passed as well. While many assumed Bertholt wasn't Alpha material, as he was more reserved and preferred to let others lead, Reiner knew that Bertholt also was capable of coming alive with a strange and intense fire. He wasn't a traditional Alpha, but Bertholt had a strength of his own.

That left Reiner and Porco. Despite Reiner’s close friendship with Marcel he had never been good friends with his brother. They constantly butted heads and always were at each other’s throats, despite Marcel’s constant mediation. Most fights ended with Marcel separating them and Bertholt leading Reiner away while Marcel comforted Porco, all while Annie watched, her eyes glittering. The problem was that between the two of them, Porco was more likely to win. Reiner was still not at the top in any of his classes. Still he tried. Still he trained. But he was always a second too slow, one blow too short, one pause too long. It infuriated him to think he had gotten this far just to lose. Because he couldn’t lose. He needed to win. He needed to make his mother proud.

Reiner’s anxiety about presenting continued to mount now that the last slot was between him and Porco. Porco was furious that he even had to compete with Reiner for anything and made his opinions on the matter quite clear. While Marcel, Annie, and Pieck went off to train in their titan forms Reiner and Porco were left together to train until they, too, presented. The Marleyans seemed indifferent to the rivalry between the two of them and instead informed them that they would prefer to have another Alpha for their mission and that they’d have to wait and see how got it.

Reiner wasn’t stupid. He heard what the soldiers were saying. And even though he had come so far and worked so hard, they were betting on Porco. Because Porco’s impulsive, reckless, and crude behavior made him seem more Alpha-like than Reiner’s more reserved demeanor. Because Marley had a strange affinity for keeping shifters in families, like it was an actual inheritance, and probably found it quaint that they’d have a pair of brothers be shifters together.

 

___________________

 

It was two months before their official graduation when Reiner began to panic. He had already gone through puberty but he hadn’t presented yet. All of the others were already chosen and training as titans. And when he heard Porco’s voice crack he knew he had limited time before Porco presented. And he knew Porco would present as an Alpha. Reiner was running out of time.

Reiner found Marcel in the training barracks working a punching bag one night. There were times that Marcel seemed almost more stressed than Reiner. Reiner wasn’t sure if it was because of the pressures of being a titan shifter of if Marcel was conflicted about Porco and Reiner presenting. It certainly did put him in a bad situation, either way. Bertholt had told him one night that it was hard for him to want Reiner to get accepted because he now understood how horrible of a burden being a shifter was. He confessed that he wanted Reiner to live his dream but that also he wished that he could protect Reiner from it. At the time Reiner had dismissed Bertholt’s fretting as nonsense.

Marcel stopped training when he saw Reiner and was quick to hoist a smile on his face, acting as kind and welcoming as he always was.

Reiner cut right to the point and told him it wasn’t working. Whatever Marcel thought the strange whispers would do, they simply weren’t having their desired effect. Marcel looked sad at that but when Reiner mentioned Porco rapidly approaching his dynamic presenting, a stricken look flickered across his face. Marcel quickly wiped it away and for a brief moment Reiner wondered if Marcel was upset because Porco presenting soon meant Reiner might not get in or if Porco presenting soon would mean that Reiner would.

After Reiner finished his panicked venting, Marcel had closed his eyes, considering. He had been giving strange looks to Reiner for the last week as if thinking something over about him and Reiner wasn’t entirely sure what was going on. When Marcel opened his eyes he looked serious and sad. He told Reiner he heard rumor of a way to help things along, whispered that it was rumored that one person’s dynamic could potentially influence the presenting of another. That as an Alpha, he could help Reiner become one, too.

And Reiner begged him for his help. _Begged._ It was an unAlpha-like thing to do, but he was desperate.

Marcel was willing.

He checked outside the training barracks to make sure there weren’t any guards, then he closed the door.

Then he locked it.  And suddenly Reiner realized how serious this was. And how close he might be to actually attaining his goal.

Marcel sat Reiner down on the padded floor and asked Reiner if he had ever touched himself; if he had ever made himself feel good at night. Reiner was almost fourteen; he knew about masturbation even though he still hadn’t quite put all the pieces together yet, he knew enough to know that rubbing himself under his sheets felt good. And when he started growing bigger he did it more and more. Blushing, he nodded and admitted as much.

Marcel looked almost relieved at that, then nodded and told him there were other things they could do as well. Things that would be strange but that would feel good. Things that would tell his body that he was an Alpha and nothing else.

Marcel hesitated, just once, and asked Reiner if he were willing to do anything to become an Alpha. He warned Reiner that it might be uncomfortable and he might not like it but that it was the only way he knew how to change Reiner’s dynamic. When Reiner eagerly agreed, Marcel gave him a faint smile and murmured that he had a strong suspicion that Reiner would be the sort that enjoyed it anyways.

Reiner tried to not act surprised when Marcel removed his shirt. He didn’t flinch when Marcel wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled against that spot on his neck that lit a fire inside him. He tried to control his breathing when Marcel reached down for his pants.

Reiner remembered, more than anything else, the smell. He remembered a scent wafting off Marcel; it was something warm, something rich. It made his head swim and it made him want to back away. It made him want to hold Marcel. It made him want to run. It made him want to stay forever. His mind was spinning from it. He wasn’t sure where the smell was coming from or how, but he knew he liked it. He knew he needed it. Reiner remembered that Marcel had kissed him, he remembered his tongue gently entering his mouth and he was confused. Marcel was his friend but this wasn’t what friends did, was it? Reiner remembered no longer caring.

Reiner remembered the first time he felt Marcel’s hand on his cock. He remembered the tight heat of Marcel’s mouth, the delicious contracting of his throat. Reiner came with a loud cry into his friend’s mouth and pulled himself out in surprise. Marcel hesitated, then opened his mouth, showing Reiner the watery liquid that coated it. Then he swallowed. Reiner’s head buzzed more. He wasn’t sure what the entire exchange was supposed to do or mean, but he liked it a lot. He also liked when Marcel helped him back to his feet the way his strong body felt pressed against Reiner’s. Reiner liked the way the words sounded when Marcel whispered once again, _I’ll submit to you._

They continued like that for a while. Bertholt was perceptive enough to keep away and Porco was too dense to notice, but Reiner was sure Annie knew what they were doing. No one said anything. No one saw anything. They could just smell it. Marcel and Reiner were close before but Reiner felt himself rapidly tumbling closer and closer to his friend as their nightly rituals continued. He learned to kiss, he learned to sigh against Marcel’s skin. He learned what it felt like to have a hand and a tongue on his cock. And he learned how thrilling it could be to watch his friend push fingers into himself while Reiner watched, his cheeks burning red. Every time, Marcel asked Reiner to use him in whatever way he wanted to. And each time, Marcel murmured _, I’ll submit to you._

After a month of fooling around, Marcel finally did submit fully. The best experience of Reiner’s life was pushing into his friend’s hole, groaning as it fluttered around his cock, holding him tightly as he filled Marcel. He loved nuzzling against Marcel’s neck as his climax tapered off, jerking Marcel’s cock off beneath them until he came with a strangled cry onto the ground beneath them. Reiner soon found himself thrusting into Marcel almost every night behind the training barracks. If anyone knew, no one said a word.

A few short weeks before the official graduation, Reiner finally presented as an Alpha. He thought no one would be more relieved than him but was surprised to find that Marcel had almost collapsed in relief at the news. When Reiner asked him why it mattered so much to him, Marcel only smiled weakly and said he was just happy it meant Reiner’s chances of becoming a titan shifter had improved.

Reiner’s first rut was spent in a special mating house and while he attempted to sate himself on some of the pictures of the girls they had there, he quickly found that he preferred the boys. Although he was sad that Marcel wasn’t there with him, he was happy at gaining a knot. He had seen Marcel’s and he had asked about it but while Marcel would allow him to explore his body every now and then for the most part, Marcel would knock his hands aside with a grin and challenge Reiner to gain his own knot to use on him after he presented. He knew Marcel would love it when he got back.

When he returned from his rut he learned that Porco had finally presented and that he was an Alpha as well. The news didn’t detract from Reiner’s victory, though. At least he still had a fighting chance. The Marleyan officers ran more tests, watched Reiner and Porco compete in various skills, read their written exams, and interviewed their fellow recruits and officers. In the end, no one was really sure who would earn the titan.

When it came time to select who would receive the titan serum, Reiner was told he would receive the Armored Titan. The look of complete and utter distress and disappointment on Porco’s destroyed face was enough to stall Reiner’s gloating. He had to at least respect how much Porco wanted it, just like him.

He didn’t remember much after that. He didn’t even remember the ceremony; although later they told him that no one ever remembered it and it was for the best that he didn’t.

Then there was training. There were more tests, only this time Reiner didn’t feel the hollow pang of fear in his gut. He felt a boiling heat, a confidence and assurance that he never had before. Because he had been chosen.

He did well. He did so well that his commanders actually pulled him aside to tell him that he had exceeded all expectations, that they were wrong to ever doubt him. The pride that swelled in his chest stayed there, safe and secure for months as he and his teammates continued to hone their skills.

And every night, Marcel would still whisper _I’ll submit to you._ And Marcel did. Even when he cried in pain when Reiner pushed his knot into him. Even when the day came that Marcel’s smell became sweeter and when his ass was loose with clear slick and no knot of his own rose up when Reiner released inside of him. Even Bertholt had stared at him that day, but he knew better than to go near Marcel when Reiner was around.

Reiner truly thought that he would now day get to be a hero, that one day he would destroy all the Eldians and that he would save the world. It was a child’s dream, but it was the only one he had.

Even when Marcel told him he was so, so very sorry.

Even when Marcel confessed that Reiner wasn’t ever supposed to be chosen as the Armored Titan. Even when Marcel confessed that Reiner was a Beta and thatMarcel had submitted to him to force Reiner’s dynamic to change.

Even when Marcel pushed Reiner aside, wide eyes pleading with him as the feral titan bit down onto his torso amidst Bertholt and Annie’s yells of shock and horror.

When Reiner finally saw the wall for the first time, he felt numb. Marcel was dead. Marcel never loved him; he used him to try to save his brother from a hell Reiner never expected. Marcel had lied to the officers, claiming that Reiner was best suited for the job, all just to protect Porco and spare him from the hell Reiner was now trapped in. And now, everything he thought he knew was a lie. Reiner was never an Alpha, he never deserved to be a titan shifter, and he would never be the hero he always wanted to be.

It was supposed to be easy. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for continuing to read!
> 
> Sorry it took me longer than I anticipated.  I was ready to post but then Chapter 103 came out and I spent a few days freaking out about it. I have some very specific head cannons regarding certain characters and if they die/don't complete particular narrative arcs, I'm going to absolutely lose it. This manga is ruining my life. 
> 
>  
> 
> If you'd like to reach me, feel free to email me at lady.snow.haiku@gmail.com :)


	4. Chapter 4

 

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

 

 

 

 

 

Reiner opened his eyes.

He had been dreaming again. Dreaming of Marcel, dreaming of home, dreaming of everything he was supposed to have and everything he had lost.

He exhaled slowly, staring up at the ceiling of the training barracks. It was the middle of the night and the barracks were strangely still; the only sound in the typically bustling buildings were the measured breathing of the sleeping cadets around him and the faint sound of crickets chirping in the summer night.

He liked the barracks at night. It felt familiar. If he closed his eyes he could just as easily be in the barracks in Marley instead. He could pretend he was home, he could pretend he was with his family and friends, and he could pretend he never came to Paradis. The barrack’s familiarity felt oddly comforting in a world where nothing seemed to be.

On the other side of the room he could hear Jean snoring. Although he couldn’t see him, Reiner was sure Marco was curled up near Jean, as he always ended up every night only to have Jean push him away in embarrassment in the morning. Under them were Thomas and Samuel. Samuel was a quiet sleeper, but he often tossed and turned at night, which usually resulted in Thomas punching him until he woke up or stilled. But tonight, Samuel was still.

Even Connie, who usually mumbled nonsense in his sleep somehow managed to stay quiet, curled up facing away from Franz. Franz at least was always quiet but had a bad habit of trying to sneak Hannah into the boy’s barracks for a quickie which generally annoyed most of the cadets.

Reiner glanced over at the bunk next to him that contained Eren and Armin. Unlike Jean and Marco they had no qualms about cuddling up together. And after all they had been through, Reiner couldn’t really fault them for taking comfort in each other’s arms. Eren, so fierce, so passionate, so wrathful while awake but in sleep he was content and mercifully quiet; even peaceful. Reiner sighed inwardly; he wished that one day Eren could find a measure of peace while he was awake instead.

Reiner’s eyes strayed to the small blonde curled up next to Eren, barely visible in the darkness. Armin was the cadet that had surprised Reiner the most, both with his determination to push his limits and his dedication to his friends. Reiner often found himself overwhelmed with anxiety when thinking about Armin because Armin simply wasn’t the soldier type; he was the type that was usually the first to die in battle and Reiner desperately prayed that that wouldn’t be the case.

Reiner swallowed, shifting to face Bertholt instead. He didn’t want to think about his friends dying. He didn’t want to think about what he was supposed to do and what the consequences of that would be.

Reiner breathed deeply, trying to get his head to clear. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately after everything that was going on. Training was getting more demanding and more intense as graduation approached. Not only that but Reiner, Bertholt, and Annie still had to find the Founding titan, not to mention all the slips Reiner had been making.

Reiner felt guilt flood him at the thought of that. The smell in the lecture hall the weeks ago had triggered something and now everything seemed entirely out of balance with him. Some days he felt like a warrior of Marley on an infiltration mission. And other days he was a soldier of Paradis with almost no recollection of his mission or his life back home before the walls. Sometimes, with his new friends, it was just easier to keep playing soldier.

Being an Alpha was sometimes hard for Reiner when deep down he just wanted to be with his friends and have someone make him feel safe and wanted. He never felt safe in Paradis, especially as a warrior. And so he had been slipping. Just minor slips, just here and there: he said things he shouldn’t have said, he forgot things he shouldn’t have forgotten. He made simple mistakes, logistical mistakes, and became increasingly irrational; he sometimes thought people were following him, thought that questions about his past were too specific; he even told Bertholt that Eren was starting to smell different to him. But while he could brush off the mistakes before, now they were beginning to get out of hand.

And he knew his slips were no longer going unnoticed by the other two.

Reiner could only guess that the scent he had smelled during the lecture had apparently sent his Alpha instincts into overdrive; all it took was the whiff of a smell that reminded him of Marcel and suddenly every memory that Reiner had attempted to bury was running through his mind every moment of every day, sending his hormones into overdrive and his memory into a fracturing spiral.

Marcel was always Reiner’s anchor. He was the one who encouraged Reiner and supported him. He submitted to Reiner when he was full of doubt and he reminded Reiner that he was an Alpha and nothing less. But ever since he had smelled that scent, Reiner’s baser instincts had awoken again. Now, he needed Marcel. He wanted to rut Marcel, he wanted to scent his partner and own him, possess him, enjoy the satisfaction of having the former Alpha submit to him. It’s how he knew he was in charge. It’s how he remembered what he was.

But without Marcel meeting his physical needs, Reiner was left to his own devices. Yes, he had blown off some steam with other recruits but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t warriors. They weren’t Alphas who submitted to him. They didn’t reassert his dynamic. They didn’t anchor him to being a warrior and being an Alpha.

And so Reiner began to slip more and more.

Reiner shook his head. He needed to find a solution to anchor himself. He had to stop flipping back and forth between being a warrior and being a soldier. It made him vulnerable and that was dangerous not only to him, but to his friends, his family, and his entire country. Reiner sighed; he knew he was in trouble but he had no idea how to fix it.

Reiner glanced over at his sleeping bedmate.

 _Bertholt._ His closest friend. His only confidant. The only person who truly understood the living nightmare that he had to endure. He wished he could confide in Bertholt right now. He wished he could shake Bertholt awake and have them both sneak out of the barracks so he could tell his best friend how lost he really was. But he couldn’t. He had already almost ruined everything by kissing Bertholt and now he didn’t dare push the issue any more.

It had been almost two weeks since the kissing incident. Two weeks and nothing but problems and misery for Reiner. Bertholt had, understandably, kept his distance from Reiner, no doubt upset and confused by his best friend suddenly locking him in a passionate kiss without any discernible reason. Reiner sighed inwardly. He needed to tell Bertholt why he was slipping, but he was ashamed; ashamed that he wasn’t a true Alpha and ashamed that he was putting their mission at risk. But more than that he was afraid that Bertholt would dismiss him, turn him in, and decommission him, and that Bertholt would reject him for his weakness and cut all ties with him.

After losing Marcel he couldn’t afford to lose Bertholt as well.

Bertholt was sleeping soundly, as he always did, his long legs spread out in a strange fashion and one arm thrown up against the wall, the other over his face. Reiner couldn’t help but smile at that. Even when they were children, Bertholt always had strange sleeping positions. At least he didn’t move around as much as Samuel, but he often ended up in far stranger contortions. Reiner always marveled at how Bertholt could possibly feel well-rested after sleeping in such strange positions, but it never seemed to bother the tall cadet. If anything, it made him more endearing to Reiner.

Reiner tore his gaze away from Bertholt, guiltily wishing that he could curl up with him the way Armin could with Eren. It was a ridiculous thought and he knew it. But he longed to be comforted, to be reassured that everything wasn’t a mistake. He almost hated himself for the very thought. He was an Alpha. He wasn’t supposed to want to be held and comforted.

It wasn’t the first time he wondered if he had presented incorrectly.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the sawdust and linen smell of the sleeping barracks. Everything was peaceful, everything was right. And yet his thoughts kept drifting back to memories of Marcel. Every night, his mind wandered to wondering what it would be like if Marcel were there. If Marcel were there, there would be an even number, so Daz wouldn’t have a bed to himself. If Marcel were there, perhaps he’d bunk with him instead, Or maybe - like when they were still in Marley - they’d sneak out together behind the barracks, and maybe Marcel would hold him tightly as he slept, maybe he’d wake up to a gentle kiss on his cheek, a soft murmur of encouragement.

Reiner glanced at Bertholt, still peacefully fast asleep, and couldn’t help but envy him. Bertholt might be quiet and shy, but he was a true warrior. He was a strong soldier, an expert marksman, and a highly skilled warrior, both in Paradis and in Marley, even if the recruits overlooked him in favor of the spectacle of Mikasa. But Bertholt was strong, both in body and mind. Everything he did was for Marley and his family back home. He didn’t enjoy causing the deaths of so many people but also accepted that it was part of his duty, a duty he never shied away from. Bertholt was a true warrior, an Alpha fully deserving of his Colossal titan.

Reiner turned his body away from Bertholt, wrapping his arms around himself, and closed his eyes tightly. He wasn’t like Bertholt at all. He was weak and he was slipping, forgetting both Marley and his mission. Some days he was a soldier for so long he forgot how to take the mask off again. Some days he forgot that he was a warrior entirely. This was why he needed Marcel. He needed someone to remind him that he was a warrior, an Alpha, a titan. Without Marcel he had no anchor, no reminder or assurance of what he was, what he had to do, or what he was capable of. All he had were fading memories and the growing fear that what he was doing wasn’t actually the right thing after all.

 _No,_ he told himself firmly, _I’m a warrior, not a soldier. I’m a hero of Marley. I am the Armored Titan. I am not a solider of Paradis._

Reiner hesitated. If he needed to remind himself that he was a warrior of Marley and an Alpha, there was one surefire way that had yet to fail him. Glancing around the dark room he strained his ears, listening for any sound to indicate that someone else was awake, but all he heard were deep, measured breathing. Everyone was definitely sound asleep. Everyone was so tired from the previous day that all the boys had passed out cold. No one was awake; no one would see or hear.

He frowned slightly, feeling his cock twitch in his pants suggestively. Maybe that was what he needed. All week he had been thinking of Marcel and all week he had been frustrated and pent up. He had even kissed Bertholt! He shook his head slightly. No, this was nothing. This was clearly just a case of his hormones being bottled up for too long. Tonight he could find himself some relief and tomorrow he would find one of the recruits to blow off some steam with. Then he’d be fine. He wouldn’t have to think about Marcel anymore. And he certainly wouldn’t do anything so ridiculous with Bertholt again.

Reiner slowly dipped his hand down to the waistband of his pants, pausing for only a moment before he let his hand slip down and gently fondle his cock. Reiner closed his eyes tight, biting back a pleasurable hiss. All week he had been unable to satisfy himself. After lectures all morning, there was lunch, surrounded by recruits, more training - which was exhausting - and then maintenance checks on their equipment, dinner, and chores. By the time he had doused himself with the already cold water of what constituted a shower Reiner was so exhausted that he scarcely was able to stumble back to his bunk. He had fallen asleep instantly, all thoughts of pleasure momentarily gone.

Reiner gratefully wrapped his fingers around his swelling cock. Everyone in the barracks pleasured themselves but it was considered common courtesy to keep it quiet and out of sight. And since everyone was sleeping -

Reiner closed his eyes, letting himself go back to the pleasant memories from before. He bit his lip, trying not to groan as he slipped his other hand into his pants as well. Soon, his cock had filled and stiffened, the rubbing of his head against the inside of his pants making him shudder from the sensitivity. In a quick movement, he pulled his pants off, keeping them nearby since he had nothing else handy to dispose of the evidence. It was easier to wash his pants than his sheets, anyways.

Now, finally freed from its confines, his cock was at full mast, fully engorged, and heavy in thickness and girth as he gently cradled it in his hands. Reiner hissed softly as his right hand began to slid up his length while his left hand dipped down to caress his balls. He needed this so badly.

Reiner paused. What he really needed was to get Marcel out of his head so he could focus. What he needed to do was cum as an Alpha. He needed to remember what he was so he would stop forgetting. Reiner gripped himself tightly. He had fooled around with Thomas one drunken night but when he came his knot had remained down. It was a good thing, too. He wasn’t sure how he would have explained that one to poor Thomas. But something in the back of his mind whispered that all of his slips and memory loss was because his dynamic was fading.

He needed to be a warrior. He needed to be an Alpha. He needed to cum with his knot; then he would remember what he was. Then perhaps these problems would no longer be problems. It was a temporary solution, but a solution nonetheless, so Reiner pursued it.

Reiner began to stroke himself faster, setting a rougher pace than before. He knew he didn’t need a partner for him to grow his knot. How many times had he pleasured himself alone, clutching at the swelling at the base of his cock? He didn’t need another titan shifter to get off, he just had to think the right thoughts.

 _Think of Marcel._ The thought drifted into his mind almost immediately. It was unsurprisingly. To Reiner, being an Alpha and having sex with Marcel were one of the same. Reiner e knew deep down that it was not only Marcel’s actions that helped guide him into presenting as an Alpha, but also it was Marcel’s continued ministrations that kept Reiner as one. And in Marcel’s absence not only his memory was slipping, but also his dynamic.

Reiner closed his eyes. If he could just figure out a way to stay an Alpha, his problems would be solved. If he could anchor his dynamic, his memory problems would be a thing of the past, and he would be a warrior of Marley and nothing else. He needed to be an Alpha so he could abandon the facade of being a soldier. Otherwise he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up.

 _Just think of Marcel._ That usually did the trick. Usually thinking of the soft groans, the quiet whimpers, and a murmured _I’ll submit to you_ was enough for Reiner. Or, it _had_ been enough. Recently it had just gotten harder. He’d been celibate for too long, surrounded by Eldians for too long, forced to stay in soldier mode for too long. He was losing his grip and without Marcel he was losing what made him a candidate to be a titan shifter in the first place. He just needed to remember Marcel, remember what having a knot felt like, remember being an Alpha.

He felt his fingers curl around the swelling bit of flesh at the base of his cock. His knot. He sighed softly, almost in relief that he could still get one, proof that he was still an Alpha. He thumbed against the swollen side of it gently, his head spinning in pleasurable ripples. As he gently squeezed the base of his cock, his mind drifted back to when he saw a knot for the first time. Reiner closed his eyes, letting his mind drift back to pleasurable memories with Marcel. Reiner almost smiled, giving the bulbous swell a gentle caress of encouragement, letting the memory wash over him as his sensitivity grew.

 

___________________

 

“Marcel,” Reiner moaned softly, pressing himself against the impossible heat of Marcel’s body as Marcel splayed himself against the tree.

They had snuck out together from the barracks and had found their way to a small park, utterly deserted in the middle of the night, and secluded by copses of trees. In a small clearing in a tiny patch of land they pretended was a forest, Marcel had turned to Reiner and gave him a knowing smile. Here, they could do anything they wanted to without fear of discovery or judgment. Here, they could be together.

Reiner had moved against Marcel immediately, kissing him and pushing him eagerly against on of the trees, moaning softly as his cock began to engorge. His own body was flaring up with arousal and need and every moment without contact made Reiner want to whine in desperation. He wanted Marcel so badly.

Marcel obediently kissed Reiner back, running his hands over Reiner’s strengthening body, the wiry muscle finally beginning to grow into solid strength. As if reading Reiner’s mind, Marcel breathed, “You’re getting so big, Reiner. I’m so proud of you for how strong you’ve gotten.”

Reiner choked back a moan at that. He thrust his hips unevenly against Marcel, whining softly as his hard cock began to soak his trousers in precum. Marcel always knew what to say to make the heat in his belly surge into a raging need.

Marcel pulled Reiner close, gently rolling his hips so Reiner could feel the press of their erections against each other through their pants. “So big,” he murmured, stroking Reiner’s hair tenderly. “So strong.”

“Marcel,” Reiner was trembling now in anticipation. What was Marcel going to show him tonight? Would he touch Reiner’s cock with his hands? Stroke him firmly until Reiner shouted and poured his essence out onto the ground? Would Marcel kneel down and take his cock into his mouth? Would he lick at his balls and lap at his tip, gently massaging his most sensitive parts before swallowing everything Reiner had to give him? Or would he put on a show? Would he lean back against one of the trees, his fingers glistening with oil as he spread his legs wide, showing Reiner the secret parts of him that made Reiner’s cock throb even harder? Would Marcel moan and gasp as he slid his fingers inside himself, stretching his impossibly small hole while Reiner stroked himself, wide-eyed and desperate?

Marcel ignored him, continuing to roll his hips against Reiner’s. He continued to press himself against Reiner and continued to touch him in gentle caresses but didn’t go beyond that. “Reiner,” he murmured softly. “I - I want you show you something tonight. But - you can’t submit. No matter what. I need you to be strong.”

Reiner’s body was already trembling but he ignored it. “I can do it.”

Marcel smiled and fell back against the tree. “Then touch me.”

Reiner blinked. Not once had Marcel ever allowed him to touch him or even look at him, with the exception of when he was putting on a show and stretching his ass for Reiner. Reiner often tried to touch him, whether it was a hand sliding up his chest to pinch his nipples or dipping down to fondle his half-hard cock. But Marcel always pushed him away and said Reiner needed to focus on himself instead.

Except for today. _Now Marcel wanted him to touch him?_ Reiner obeyed gladly, finally being given a command he wanted and relished. He threw himself on Marcel, pushing him against the tree as he kissed him passionately. Marcel groaned softly at that, letting Reiner kiss him, letting Reiner push his body against his. He panted as Reiner pulled Marcel’s shirt from his body, revealing his sculpted chest, smooth and utterly devoid of scars, thanks to the titan healing properties he now had. Marcel didn’t push him away when Reiner kissed at his neck hungrily, his fingers seeking out his nipples while his other hand slipped down to his pants.

“That’s it,” Marcel breathed, sighing as Reiner rubbed against him. With fumbling movements, Reiner managed to undo Marcel’s pants and let them fall to the ground. “Mmphf yessss. Reiner, yess.”

Reiner pulled off his shirt, too and returned to kissing Marcel. It was one of his favorite things to do but now that he could touch Marcel it was even better than before. He kissed Marcel, holding him in his embrace while his hands roved all over Marcel’s skin, feeling the heat radiating from his friend’s trembling body.

And finally - _finally_ \- he let his hand dip down and felt his fingers finally find Marcel’s cock.

Reiner moaned as he wrapped his hand around Marcel’s pulsing length, feeling the weight of his friend’s cock in his hand for the first time. He had seen Marcel’s cock before, briefly when Marcel was fingering himself; but by then Reiner’s eyes were glued to the way the small hole opened for Marcel’s digits. And he had seen it when Marcel stripped and even briefly when Marcel touched himself while he swallowed Reiner’s length. But Reiner had never seen Marcel’s hard cock on display so openly for him. And he had never gotten to touch it.

“Marcel,” Reiner moaned, slowly stroking his friend while gently humping against him. His arousal was getting increasingly frustrating and painful. As much as he wanted to touch Marcel he also wanted himself to be touched and while Marcel was keeping in contact with him, it was no where near enough and Marcel knew it.

Marcel breathed heavily as Reiner stroked him, leaning back against the tree with his eyes closed in bliss, enjoying Reiner’s efforts as his hips stuttered in pleasurable twitches. Reiner continued that for a few moments more before suddenly Marcel’s eyes flew open and he flinched away from Reiner, knocking his hands away from his cock with a groan.

“What’s wrong?” Reiner whispered, stepping back away from Marcel, suddenly afraid that he had done something wrong.

Marcel turned around so his back was to Reiner and he leaned against the tree, panting as he rested his forehead against the bark. “N-nothing,” he whispered. “It - it was just hard to make you stop - when it felt so good.”

Reiner felt relief flood him and he almost smiled at that. _So he was doing it right, then._ “Then why did I have to stop?”

Marcel looked over his shoulder, his hair tousled and his face flushed, and Reiner’s dick twitched at the sight. “I have to - make you an Alpha,” Marcel said weakly. “And you can’t do that if you want to be an Alpha. But - ” He sighed softly, groaning as he reached down and stroked his cock. “But I wanted to show you this first. So you knew what you’d get.”

Marcel turned around fully and lifted his hard cock in his hand, cradling it for Reiner to see. At first Reiner was just thrilled to get a chance to actually look at Marcel’s cock and appreciate it. But after a moment of surveying the hardened length, he suddenly balked when he noticed something was different.

“Do you know what this is?” Marcel panted, his pupils blown as he looked at his friend.

“What - what is that?” Reiner whispered, hushed and amazed at the bulbous growth swelling at the base of Marcel’s cock.

“It’s - it’s a knot,” Marcel answered faintly as a bead of precum welled at the tip of his throbbing flesh. “All Alphas have them. You'll have it, too, one day.” He swallowed, looking like he’d like nothing more than have Reiner finish stroking him right then and there. But he resisted, continuing to hold the trembling length in his hands. “And when you bed your mate, it will swell up even bigger and it’ll feel - even better than it does now.”

“Marcel,” Reiner breathed, utterly awed.

“Reiner,” Marcel murmured softly. His eyes clouded with lust and he reached out for Reiner and pulled him back into his arms, kissing him deeply. When Reiner moaned into the kiss, Marcel maneuvered Reiner around and pushed him firmly against the tree, pinning his strong body against his.

For a moment Reiner’s brain overloaded and he saw nothing but white as Marcel’s smell clouded his mind, making his body go limp and pliant in Marcel’s arms. His cock was throbbing and he felt a searing heat rise up in his stomach as Marcel, sweet wonderful Marcel, pressed him against the tree and kissed him hard. _Yes,_ he wanted to say, _yes, do this. Do this more. Do anything you want, just touch me, love me._

Marcel stopped again, panting. His breathing was labored and he froze, as if suddenly realizing how forceful he was being and how accepting of it Reiner was. “Reiner,” he said again, but this time he used a firmer tone. He swallowed, getting a hold of himself again. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” Reiner answered immediately, nuzzling against him. “I want you.”

 _“No!”_ Marcel shook his head and Reiner knew why. He knew this game. Marcel stared hard at Reiner, his meaning clear. “Tell me what you want,” he said again.

Reiner sighed inwardly, ignoring the small voice in him that whimpered and wanted to beg for Marcel to do something to him. He knew what he had to say and why. He would say anything if it meant getting Marcel. Reiner swallowed. “I want you to submit.”

Marcel nodded, waiting, his cheeks flushed and his lips red from kissing. “No,” he said softly, his voice soft and without any aggression in his tone.

Reiner hated this game. “Submit, Marcel.”

Marcel closed his eyes, struggling with it. Reiner knew Marcel wanted to pin him down and consume him just as much as he wanted Marcel to, but the game they played meant they couldn’t. They had to do the opposite of what they wanted. “I won’t submit,” Marcel said wearily.

Usually Marcel relented by this point, but letting Reiner touch him must have gotten him more worked up than usual. Reiner drew in a deep breath. Marcel had told him what to do when this happened but he didn’t really want to. But if he didn’t, Marcel would stop playing these games entirely with him. And he didn’t want to stop. “Submit.”

Marcel stared at the ground, looking almost pained. “I’m an Alpha,” he said roughly. “Alphas don’t submit.”

Without hesitating, Reiner grabbed Marcel’s wrists and spun him around, pushing him into the tree instead. He pressed his body against Marcel’s trembling one, keeping him pinned against the tree trunk. “You’ll submit to me,” he growled in a low voice against the back of Marcel’s neck.

Marcel smiled, the tension draining from his body, then closed his eyes and tipped his head back, revealing his neck and his smell suddenly seemed so much sweeter than before. “I’m yours, Reiner,” he sighed softly. “I’ll submit to you.”

Reiner immediately dove in, suckling at Marcel’s throat, smelling the strong scent there, tasting Marcel’s sweat. “Good boy,” he murmured because he knew Marcel would want him to say something like that. Marcel always shuddered and groaned when he said things like that and this time was no different.

Reiner was too hard to wait any longer. He couldn’t handle teasing the way Marcel could and with the heat radiating from Marcel’s body coupled with the feeling of Marcel’s ass rubbing against Reiner’s cock meant that he was nearing his limit. So Reiner opened his pants and freed his painfully hard erection and pushed himself between Marcel’s legs, pressing himself flush against Marcel’s bare back.

Marcel whimpered, closing his legs together so his thighs squeezed around Reiner’s cock as Reiner began to thrust. Thankfully, Marcel had been aroused enough that his thighs were slick with dribbled precum and sweat and Reiner was able to enjoy the smooth friction there. But more than that, he enjoyed the feeling of his cock bumping against Marcel’s balls and penis every time he thrust inwards.

Marcel groaned against the tree trunk, his nails digging into the bark as Reiner pressed into him, pushing and pulling his cock between the heat of Marcel’s legs. Already the knot he had was subsiding as if it knew Marcel was submitting and they were left with two ordinary boys rutting against each other, all other physical trace or smell of an Alpha dissipating into nothingness.

“R-Reiner!” Marcel moaned, his eyes squeezed shut tight as Reiner gripped him.

“Do you like this?” Reiner groaned, feeling emboldened by Marcel’s moans as he continued to rock into his friend's thighs. “You like the way this feels when you submit?”

“A-alpha,” Marcel groaned, hissing as Reiner’s cock jostled against his balls painfully.

Reiner moaned against the back of Marcel’s neck. “Do you want me to have a knot one day?”

Marcel cried out at that. “Yes! Yes! Let me feel you swell inside me!”

Something in Reiner’s brain went off at that and he saw fireworks as he slammed his body against Marcel’s, his cock twitching as his hips snapped roughly against Marcel’s with a slap. “Submit!”

“Yes! Yes! I’ll submit to you! Nuungh! Ahhh - A-alpha!” Marcel shuddered beneath him as Reiner felt himself cum, spraying his seed across the tree.

Marcel came as well, collapsing against the cum-stained tree and breathing heavily as Reiner pulled himself free of his friend’s thighs, blushing as he tucked himself back into his pants in a daze.

Marcel panted, catching his breath, and slowly pushed himself up and turned around to face Reiner. He was fully naked, his cock dribbling but soft - with no sign of his knot - and cum speckled his chest and legs with a white spray. He glanced at the tree and the cum that clung to its bark, then back at Reiner with a slightly lopsided grin.

Reiner grinned back; that look of pure satisfaction and goofy relief was just another reason that made his heart swell in his chest. And he knew he’d do anything for Marcel. Even become an Alpha.

Marcel ignored the clothes on the ground and went over the Reiner and wrapped his arms around him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. “I’ll always submit to you,” he murmured with a blush. Before Reiner could respond, he turned around and snatched his clothes off the ground, hurriedly pulling them on before darting off to the showers, his face still red, leaving Reiner standing next to a cum-stained tree with his shirt crumpled on the ground and a grin on his face.

 

___________________

 

“Marcel,” Reiner whispered in the darkness. He said it almost automatically, his lips so used to whimpering his friend’s name that he muttered it without thinking.

Reiner gripped himself, hissing as a surge of precum bubbled up from his cock. He was close; so close. With one hand he reached down to fondle his balls, gently rolling them in his hand while he gripped himself tightly in his other hand, giving his length a few firm strokes, feeling himself balancing on the edge of climaxing, but still not quite there.

Reiner grunted, sweat beading on his forehead as he ground his teeth. He _needed_ to get off. His heart was pounding, his pheromones were wafting in needy waves from him, and his balls practically ached with the need to empty themselves. He grabbed his discarded pants to shoot into when he was finally there. He was so, so close. He just needed a little more.

Reiner opened his eyes and clenched his jaw, trying not to cry out as he worked his hand at a faster pace, chasing a climax that was suddenly eluding him. _Think of Marcel, think of Marcel, think of Marcel -_

But as he stroked his swollen cock he realized that thinking of Marcel was only getting him aroused from the memories of what they had done when Marcel was still someone Reiner loved purely and without taint. But now after everything the thought of Marcel left a bitter taste in his mouth, the memory enough to rouse his dick but not enough to let him actually cum. Reiner gripped his knot, determined to not let it go down. He needed to cum,

Reiner groaned, desperately looking around the darkened barracks, trying to think of something - _anything_ \- that would bring him over the edge.

And there, sprawled right beside him, sleeping peacefully and blissfully unaware of what his bedmate was doing, was Bertholt. Reiner felt a jolt of arousal go through his body. _No, no, not Bertholt; think of Marcel, think of anyone else._ But Marcel was dead. And the cold truth was that Marcel had used him, betrayed him, and abandoned him in this hell alone with a faulty dynamic. But through it all, Bertholt had been there at his side. Bertholt was _still_ at his side.

Reiner felt his arousal surge, his cock practically pouring precum from its slit as his body quaked on the bed. “B-ber -” Reiner choked off the moan, unable to say his friend’s name. He couldn’t. It was wrong. It was more wrong then when he had kissed Bertholt the other week. _Not Bertholt,_ he told himself sternly, _you don’t want Bertholt._

But, Reiner realized with a flare of panic and an edge of shame, he did want Bertholt.

Reiner stared at his friend in the darkness, his gaze suddenly lustful and needy as his eyes traveled over Bertholt’s sleeping form. Reiner stifled a moan as he stared at the way the sliver of moonlight pooled at Bertholt’s throat, at how his long limbs gleamed in the darkness, perfectly shaped, powerful, and smooth. He gasped, suddenly smelling Bertholt’s scent for the first time. _Had it always been there? Was he only noticing now because he was looking at Bertholt in this way? Or was it Bertholt’s body subconsciously trying to fend him off by reminding him that he was an Alpha, too?_

It didn’t matter. Maybe Reiner was only aroused by Alphas now. Maybe he was so broken that he was turning to his last friend so he could shatter that, too. Or maybe, deep down, it had always been Bertholt. Maybe Marcel was all a lie because it was as close to the real thing as Reiner could manage at the time. But now he had the real thing. Bertholt was here, right next to him. So close they were almost touching -

“Mmm,” he hummed, stroking himself faster, still unwilling to whisper his friend’s name in case anyone heard him. But his mind was spinning with need and want as he stared at Bertholt’s prone form and as he gripped his rapidly expanding knot with an iron grip. “Yesssss,” he groaning, his hips gyrating in spastic snaps as he felt himself rushing toward blissful satisfaction.

He remembered the taste of Bertholt, the surprising sweetness that lingered on his skin. He remembered the way Bertholt’s body had stiffened against him, hesitant, when he had first pressed himself against his friend, and he remembered that glorious, brief moment when Bertholt melted into him, accepting what Reiner wanted and willing to give it to him. And his mind spun in a lust-clouded daze, a half formed prayer on his lips that Bertholt would one day want this, that he would need Reiner as badly as Reiner needed him and that one day he would submit to Reiner the way Marcel did.

Reiner came with a choked-off cry, gasping as he felt himself release into his pants, his cock throbbing as he unloaded his seed with almost painful force. He gasped as he stroked himself through his climax, practically sobbing as his knot pulsed and he felt weeks and weeks of pent up stress and uncertainty drain from his body with each sticky rope of cum. Finally, his cock stopped trembling and he felt his balls relax, and only a dribble of cum seeped from his tip. Still clutching at his knot, Reiner collapsed limply onto his bed, panting heavily. He might have woken the entire barracks up with that, but he couldn’t care less. His head was finally clear and he finally felt like himself again.

He let himself enjoy the afterglow. He closed his eyes and inhaled the mingled scents of his release and Bertholt’s peaceful musk, listening to the soft, deep breathing of the boys sleeping in the barracks around him. He let himself get lulled to an almost catatonic state by the sounds of crickets and the pleasant feeling that washed through his entire body after such a struggle for release.

But as his knot finally deflated and he caught his breath, Reiner began to return to reality.

Reiner opened his eyes. He needed to stop. He had to stop. Bertholt was absolutely off limits. He was Reiner’s oldest friend. And his only real friend here or anywhere else in the world. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize that. He wouldn’t. Reiner was better than that.

He sighed inwardly and wadded up his soiled pants, shoving them under his pillow. He needed to get a hold of himself. He needed to forget about what Marcel did and what Bertholt could do and everything else and just focus on the task at hand. He needed to be what Marley required of him. He needed to be what Marcel made him, even if Marcel was gone.

Bertholt snored softly and turned in his sleep, rotating his lithe body around and throwing his arm over his face, long legs splayed. Reiner couldn’t help but smile sadly at that. Maybe Bertholt’s sleeping positions didn’t actually predict the weather; maybe they were a forecast of when Reiner’s mind would slip once again. He looked at the way Bertholt’s legs were splayed beneath the blankets and sighed inwardly. It didn’t matter which way Bertholt tossed and turned in his sleep, the answer was always _soon, he would slip again soon._

Reiner swallowed roughly and closed his eyes, turning away from Bertholt. He needed to forget about Marcel. And he needed to forget about Bertholt submitting to him. Their friendship meant too much to him. _Just pull yourself together. Just a little longer,_ he told himself. _Just don’t hurt Bertholt, no matter what._ Finally managing to push all thoughts of Bertholt from his mind, he let his exhaustion claim him and gratefully surrendered to a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

 

Sorry about the delay in posting the chapter! I just wanted to get the next few chapters more or less fleshed out before I posted this one :)

I also apologize if there are mistakes or if parts of the chapter are a tad clumsy. I was working with a few drafts that all went in different directions and since I don’t have a beta reader I had to piece everything together and hope for the best. Please let me know if there are any errors I need to fix!

 

___________________

 

Reiner woke up drenched in a cold sweat the next morning.

He groaned in the warm darkness of the barracks, blinking his sleep-laden eyes as his brain struggled to put together where he was. For the briefest of moments, he almost felt like he were back home again. He could smell the sawdust and the wood of the barracks, he could smell the soft summer scents blowing gently through the windows; most of all, he could smell himself and Bertholt. For a wonderful moment, it was almost as if he were home again and he was never made a titan shifter and he had never come to Paradis and everything was the way it was supposed to be: peaceful, happy, and free of strife.

For the briefest of moments Reiner was content. But the fleeting moment of happiness quickly shattered as his disorientation cleared and he remembered: he was still in Paradis. He was still a titan shifter on a failing mission that already took the life of his friend. And he was still coming dangerously close to ruining his friendship with the only true friend he had left. Reiner sank back onto his pillow, feeling only guilt at the last thought. _Bertholt._ The scent of Bertholt prickled at his nose as his friend still slept peacefully next to him, blissfully unaware that Reiner had masturbated to thoughts of him the night before.

Reiner wrinkled his nose. That was it. The smell of his own Alpha pheromones still filled his nose, no doubt left over from what he had done last night, and that combined with the scent of Bertholt and the fading thoughts of Marcel must have led him to have strange dreams. Reiner guiltily looked away from Bertholt’s sleeping form. _Strange dreams that were utterly unacceptable._ He was already slipping when it came to his mission. He couldn’t afford to entertain the fantasy of being with Bertholt as well. Reiner swallowed. He needed to get a grip on reality and he needed to do it soon.

Reiner fell back against his pillow with a silent curse. _Last to fall asleep and first to wake?_ He would pay for this later, he knew. But some part of him was almost thankful that he had managed to wake up this early. Now, at least, he could dispose of any evidence of his nighty activity and maybe even air out the barracks before Bertholt woke up.

Not that they weren’t used to smelling each other. Thankfully, the other recruits were just average Eldians and were unable to detect the subtle smells that the shifters - with their almost animalistic sense of smell - were able to note. Everyone get themselves off in the barracks under the cover of darkness. But not everyone had to smell it as clearly as Reiner and Bertholt smelled each other.

At first, it had been embarrassing to realize that he and Bertholt could tell when the other masturbated; the smell was always a give away and the other would always end up emitting Alpha pheromones in response. But they learned to deal with it. And after a while, it became common and they didn’t think anything of it. Reiner knew that Bertholt wouldn’t mind in the least if he woke up to Reiner’s scent. He wouldn’t even mention it. But the fact that Reiner was thinking of Bertholt that night - even if Bertholt wasn’t aware of it - still was an upsetting thought to Reiner. He would rather have it be as if nothing had happened at all.

Reiner glanced at Bertholt, who was still sleeping, albeit in a totally new position that would have been unbearably uncomfortable for anyone else. Even in his sleep, Bertholt had responded to Reiner’s session last night and the gentle push of Alpha pheromones lingered in the air around him, reminding Reiner of what he was.

_An Alpha. His friend. Off limits._

Reiner sighed and he wearily pushed himself out of bed. He needed to remove any evidence of what he had done last night. Even if Bertholt only would be able to tell that he had been masturbating and didn’t know who he was masturbating to, Reiner couldn’t bear the shame of thinking that he had gotten off to thoughts of his best friend. He needed to wash his hands of this; literally.

Reiner grabbed his soiled pants and slowly trudged out of the barracks, his limbs still heavy from sleep. With any luck his scent would fade before Bertholt woke up and it would be like nothing ever happened. And with any luck he’d find a way to get his mind off Bertholt. For both of their sakes.

 

___________________

 

Unsurprisingly, the recruits had a heavy schedule that day, filled with more training, more studying, cleaning, and then even more training. It would be an easy day to avoid Bertholt and while Reiner knew his friend would be a little hurt that Reiner had suddenly vanished on him, Reiner also knew that he needed to put a little distance between himself and Bertholt or he might really start to lose his mind.

Without Bertholt’s presence looming over him, Reiner suddenly found himself surrounded by a happy, chattering group of cadets, albeit exhausted and filled with a lingering fear, but they were all happy nonetheless. They were all friends. And Reiner suddenly found that that was what he had been looking for. Unlike Marley, they didn’t view each other as competitors. Yes, they were certainly competing, but for the most part the cadets seemed more concerned with helping each other than outpacing each other. And without Bertholt looking over his shoulder and quietly telling him not to get involved, Reiner let the day sweep him away and he found himself genuinely too busy to look for Bertholt or even attempt to deflect why he was avoiding his friend. Instead, Reiner let himself act as a solider, not thinking about Marley or Bertholt or Marcel, and just acted the part that was given to him.

In some ways, he liked this more. He was, of course, friends with the boys of the 104 already, but the friendship was always fleeting for him. He interacted with them, told some stories, shared some laughs, then would inevitably be pulled aside by Bertholt to talk about the mission or whisper about being homesick for Marley. But without Bertholt, Reiner felt as if the world was opening up to him. He felt like himself. And he loved it.

In morning training, Reiner was paired with Armin, much to their mutual delight. Although Reiner and Bertholt were typically together as often as Armin was with Eren, there were many times throughout their training that the giant Reiner found himself with the small blonde boy.

Of all the recruits in the 104, Reiner felt the closest bond with Armin, something that even Bertholt failed to understand. Ignoring the size difference, Armin and Reiner was surprisingly similar. They both were determined, had stubborn, obstinate demeanors, cared deeply for their friends, had calculating minds, and a perseverance that few understood. It’s why Reiner often helped him through training, despite Bertholt’s disapproving stares. It’s why they became friends in the first place. Everyone knew that Reiner and Bertholt were close, just like everyone knew that Eren and Armin were close. But somehow, Reiner and Armin managed to become close as well. And so when Bertholt was being too quiet or was off trying to talk to Annie and when Eren was yelling at Jean or scolding Mikasa, Armin and Reiner were left alone to talk quietly to each other.

Without Bertholt, Reiner easily fell in with Armin, and by extension Eren, and after training Armin pulled him away with him for breakfast, then class, then lunch, and soon Reiner felt the entire day slipping away with Armin and later Eren, and no Bertholt at all.

Reiner enjoyed being with the pair. Eren was passionate and fierce, eager to do well for himself but practically murderous if someone so much as looked at Armin sideways. Armin was unwavering loyal, smart, curious, and determined, supporting Eren in his pursuits and calming him from him spinning off-course. Reiner envied their friendship. It was what he wished he could have with Bertholt, except their friendship was now marred by secrets and doubts. Reiner almost wondered if he and Bertholt had never left Marley, perhaps they’d be like Eren and Armin now.

It was easy to be with the dynamic pair. After all, he was Reiner the soldier. Here, he was everyone’s big brother; loved, adored, and respected. He did extremely well in all of his classes and training, was always hailed by his comrades, greeted, and thanked. He felt almost popular. And being with Eren and Armin made things easier.

Many of the boys were drawn in by Eren’s magnetism and Armin’s equally logical and sweet demeanor. With Reiner there as well, they all flocked to the table. Reiner set back, enjoying the chatter around him. Eren and Jean were going through their typical pissing contest, each snarling insults at each other while boasting about their own prowess, which, even Reiner had to admit, could be amusing at times. Connie was telling ridiculous stories that were almost certainly not true, but his animated style of talking and his complete conviction in their believability made it entertaining to watch. Thomas and Samuel were chattering about which Garrison posts they might like, based solely on where the prettiest ladies were, and even Daz was actually smiling and not complaining for once.

 _This. This was what he wanted._ His entire life, this is what Reiner longed for. He didn’t want to be loved or praised. He just wanted to be able to sit with his friends and know that in that moment, he was surrounded by people who cared. Graduation was rapidly approaching but no one was putting each other down or trying to sabotage each other. They were talking about their lives, their futures. They were doing what friends were supposed to do. And for ever complaint that Daz uttered and every punch that Eren threw, there was Connie’s optimism to make up for it, and there was Armin’s kindness to calm the tensions. Reiner smiled when he realized for the first time in what felt like years, he was happy.

He wasn’t thinking about his poor mother or his father who abandoned them both. He wasn’t thinking about the taunting names his comrades called him or the Marleyan soldier’s comments on the streets insulting his birth. He wasn’t thinking about how Marcel used him or even how Bertholt left him behind. He wasn’t competing, he wasn’t fighting. He was, for the first time, simply existing as himself. Just Reiner. No warrior or soldier. Just Reiner as a human being siting amongst his friends. He wanted to stay like that forever.

It was an easy illusion to shatter.

Reiner simply looked up to the girls’ table where Mikasa was offering a thin smile at Sasha, who was chittering to Krista and Mina about something, when he caught sight of Annie sitting quietly on the far side of the table, her eyes narrowed, her face blank. And almost as if it were impossible for him to see one without the other, Reiner felt his gaze pulled around the mess hall, sweeping over each table until he caught sight of a ridiculously tall figure quietly eating his dinner alone. _Bertholt._

Reiner looked away. _Yes, that’s right._ The illusion of Reiner ever being able to be friends with anyone in the mess hall was long gone. He was their enemy. He was the Armored Titan. For as happy and content as he had felt a moment ago, he now felt guilty and miserable. He was a lie; a wolf amongst sheep. And all of this happiness was temporary. One day, all of these friendships would be shattered and gone. Because even if the 104 managed to survive the titans that surrounded them, one day the war with Marley would inevitably be brought to them. And how could 3DMG compete against tanks and bombs? Reiner closed his eyes. _It couldn’t._ If not for the titan powers, these people would be sitting ducks, just ready for the slaughter. If anything, the titans that surrounded their world kept them safe; not that that would be any comfort to them.

Reiner ran a hand through his hair, the laughter around him fading as he wrapped himself in his own head. _Was this really what he wanted?_ He never felt this happy with the Warriors. He was never this happy in Marley. Was it because Marley was actually the wrong side to be on? Or was it because he was too weak to recognize the Eldian lies?

These so-called Eldian devils were just innocent people, just like him. Did he really want to sacrifice them just to improve his own social standing? Or were they really a terrible, corrupt race whose existence needed to be exterminated so that the good people of Marley could flourish? Reiner didn’t know anymore. He thought he’d get answers in Paradis but all he got was more questions and confusion.

Reiner sighed. He needed to stop. He had a mission to complete. But this was exactly why he was falling apart and Annie and Bertholt weren’t. Because he was friends with the Eldian devils. He liked them and cared about them. He saw them as people; not just people, but _friends._ And Bertholt and Annie stayed detached so it would be easier to kill them. Reiner shook his head; _how could anyone honestly think that about these people?_ Who looked at Connie and decided he was a cold-blooded killer? Who looked at Krista and decided she deserved to die? Some of the Eldians were annoying or rude or frustration and some, like Mikasa, were absolutely deadly. But so were Marleyans. The people behind the walls were just people. And it was that realization that made Reiner forget he was a warrior. Days like these made him slip. Days were he prayed he’d never have to hurt any of them ever.

But whenever Reiner would find himself wishing he could just give up on Marley and be a soldier of Paradis, he remembered Bertholt. Saving his friends would mean killing Bertholt. And didn’t Bertholt deserve to live, to thrive, to have a chance at happiness? Because if Reiner failed, so did Bertholt. And Reiner couldn’t let that happen either.

Reiner dropped his gaze, staring down at his hands instead of at Bertholt or across the table at Eren. This is why he was constantly being torn in two. Because he didn’t know who to spare and who to sacrifice. And while logically he knew it might be better to spare his friends whatever suffering he could, his heart also ached at the thought of Bertholt being killed by the soldiers or decommissioned by Marley. Bertholt, his best friend and in many ways his only friend. Didn’t Bertholt deserve Reiner’s protection and love, too?

 

___________________

 

Bertholt finally managed to pull Reiner aside the following day. Reiner was in a far better mood than before, having finally gotten some sleep and having finally shaken off the strange stir of arousal he felt whenever he looked at Bertholt. After spending time with the other recruits he felt more like himself and less like he was falling apart at the seams.

Until Bertholt inevitably intercepted him. They had a few free hours to work on whatever training they wanted to and while some like Mikasa and Armin went off to the 3DMG practice area, others like Connie and Thomas went to the weight training yard, while some like Annie and Eren eagerly trotted over to the combat practice area. Reiner wanted some peace and quiet and he opted to go on a head-clearing run. Until Bertholt appeared before him.

Despite his looming size, Bertholt was surprisingly stealthy, and his sudden appearance caught Reiner by surprise. “Reiner?” Bertholt said softly, his features unreadable, but Reiner already knew that Bertholt wanted.

Reiner ignored the slight sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and met Bertholt’s gaze squarely. “Hello, Bertholt,” he said softly, waiting to see if Bertholt would give up and leave or if he would press the issue. Reiner certainly wasn’t going to.

Bertholt hesitated, then relented. “Can we talk?” Bertholt asked, his face already drawn.

Reiner sighed inwardly. They still hadn’t really talked about what had happened. Bertholt hadn’t brought up the kiss again and he hadn’t mentioned that Reiner had been wavering between his warrior and his soldier personae. And Reiner hadn’t brought it up either. But he knew that they couldn’t go on ignoring it forever and now was just as good a time as any. _Might as well get this over with._

“Sure,” he said, gesturing forward and letting Bertholt lead them to one of the running paths. The path he chose was several kilometers long and wound its way through a forested area in the foothills of the mountain range and around a small lake. It was a good choice for talking: the path was typically close to deserted and would provide enough privacy for an open discussion without fear of being overheard.

Reiner started down the path at a light jog, letting Bertholt run wordlessly at his side, trailing slightly behind him. Reiner kept up the easy pace until he felt they had ventured deep enough into the woods and then slowed his pace to a walk, with Bertholt beside him. They walked together silently, both waiting until they were even deeper in the woods to start talking and neither really wanting to start the unavoidable conversation.

Finally, Bertholt broke the silence hanging between them. “You - you’ve been avoiding me,” Bertholt said quietly, not looking at Reiner.

“No, I haven’t,” Reiner countered immediately as guilt coiled in his stomach. I _f he hadn’t been thinking inappropriate thoughts he wouldn’t have had to avoid Bertholt. And if he could just keep his memories straight, he wouldn’t have to think inappropriate thoughts to anchor his dynamic_. This was all an enormous mess; and Reiner knew full well that he was the one who caused it. “I’ve just been busy with everything that’s going on,” he added, keeping his voice as light as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Bertholt even more.

 _“Reiner,_ ” Bertholt said, with more strength in his voice than before. He looked like he wanted to say something, then he stopped and sighed and shook his head, suddenly looking defeated. “Reiner, what’s really going on with you?” He murmured softly. “I just - ” he swallowed, shaking his head in frustration, “ - you’re my friend, Reiner. My best friend. And lately you’ve been acting - different.”

Reiner sighed roughly, running his hand through his hair. _Here it was: the talk about the kiss_. He knew he really shouldn’t be surprised it came up eventually, but also he wished they could just pretend it never happened. “Bertholt,” Reiner said wearily, trying to not sound as exhausted as he felt. “I already apologized for that. I was tired and I wasn’t thinking clearly - ”

“You haven’t been thinking very clearly at all lately,” Bertholt murmured darkly.

Reiner threw up his arms in annoyance. “What else am I supposed to say? I already apologized. What more can I do?”

“You can be honest with me!” Bertholt’s voice was almost pleading. “I - I know there’s more going on than you’re telling me. Some days you’re the Reiner I know. Other days it’s almost like you’re Marcel. And other days you’re something else entirely. And I didn’t mind at first when I thought it was just your way of coping. But it’s not, is it? You’re starting to forget things, Reiner. You’re forgetting the mission. And that’s a big deal.”

“I’m not forgetting things,” Reiner lied, putting as much conviction in his voice as he could manage, despite the lie.

“Reiner,” he said after a moment of silence. “I - I know you don’t want to talk about this and I know it’s not a good time but - there’s never going to be a good time. I need to know what’s going on, Reiner. You can’t keep going on forgetting things and getting confused.” Bertholt paused. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not confused, Bertholt.”

 _“You kissed me,”_ Bertholt exclaimed, sounding more exasperated than embarrassed. “You kissed me and then you couldn’t remember if you were a soldier or a warrior! It’s like you’re losing your mind - ”

“That’s not true!” Reiner shot back and it took him a moment to realize that he had shouted. He froze, staring at Bertholt’s frightened and surprised expression, his ears straining for any sound other than the breeze.

When the birds that were scared into silence by Reiner’s yelling finally started chirping again, Bertholt visibly relaxed. “Alright,” he said softly. “Maybe that’s not true. But how am I supposed to know? You’re shutting me out, Reiner. You’re not telling me things and then when I do talk to you, it seems like you’re falling apart.” He tentatively reached his hand out and placed it on Reiner’s broad shoulder. “You’re my best friend, Reiner. And something isn’t right.”

Reiner looked away. “I’m handling it.” His voice sounded rougher than he meant it to. “You don’t have to worry about me, Bertholt.”

“Yes I do.” Bertholt squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “I promised Marcel I’d take of you if anything happened. I promised him - ”

“Marcel never gave a damn about me,” Reiner snapped. “So I doubt he really cared either way.”

Bertholt withdrew his hand. “You’re talking about what he said before - before he died, aren’t you?” Reiner only responded with stormy silence. Bertholt sighed. “Reiner, I know I don’t know all the details about you and Marcel. But I do know that he cared about you. I’m sorry he lied to you to help Porco. I really am. But - but this is what you wanted. You wanted to earn your spot here more than anything else in the world. He was just trying to help his family and help you at the same time.” Bertholt turned away from Reiner, staring at trees that lined the path. “How was he supposed to know that everything would end up this badly?”

Reiner glanced up. Sometimes he forgot that Marcel was Bertholt’s friend, too. And that Bertholt must miss him as well. He swallowed. He knew that sometimes he was unfair to Marcel. It was easier to blame the dead than the living. And Bertholt was right. Marcel may have used him, but it wasn’t as if it wasn’t what he wanted. Reiner desperately wanted to be a shifter. And Marcel helped him get it. And Marcel seemed to enjoy most of what they did every night; it couldn’t have been all bad. At the end of the day, Marcel was Reiner’s friend. He did lie to him and he did manipulate him, but he also helped him, comforted him, and supported him.

Reiner exhaled slowly. _This was getting ridiculous._ He already lost Marcel. Was he really ready to lose Bertholt, too? All because of another lie? Hadn’t Reiner already learned that lesson? Reiner glanced at Bertholt. _Poor Bertholt._ He must feel as lost as Reiner did. He deserved to know the truth. It might cause him more anxiety in the end, but at least he’d know what was really going on instead of floundering in the dark.

Reiner went to Bertholt’s side and offered him a thin smile. “I know,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I just - ” He trailed off and laughed roughly, shaking his head. “You know, I thought I smelled him again. A month or so ago. I actually thought I smelled him and ever since I just haven’t been able to get him out of my head.”

Bertholt returned the smile. “I miss him, too, Reiner,” he said softly. “But that’s why I want to make sure you’re alright. You take on the hardest jobs - even harder than Annie’s - and you’ve suffered the most to get here. That’s why I want to make sure you’re alright.”

Reiner smiled sadly. “So long as I have you, I’ll be alright.”

Bertholt laughed weakly with a faint blush, but he also looked pleased.

Reiner sighed, finally relenting. He was so tired of not telling Bertholt things. He was tired of harboring so many secrets. He just wanted to get things back to the way they were before. Even if it meant telling Bertholt the truth. “I’m sorry Bertholt. I really am. I didn’t want to drag you into this.” Reiner shook his head. “You’re right. I am confused. I’m just - I’m having trouble keeping everything straight. I’m forgetting things. And sometimes I get so wrapped up in being a soldier that I forget I’m a warrior. It’s - it’s starting to become a problem.”

“It’s alright,” Bertholt said gently. “You don’t have to apologize. We’ll figure something out, alright?”

Reiner nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything I should have. I didn’t want you to worry, but you’re worrying anyway and - you deserved to know what’s really going on.”

Bertholt waited but when Reiner fell into a silence, he asked softly, “Is that all?”

Reiner hesitated. _Wasn’t that enough?_ “Yeah. I’m just having problems remembering things. That’s why I’m getting confused.”

There was something about the look in Bertholt’s eyes that made Reiner uncomfortable. Something knowing, as if he were beginning to put everything together. “Why do you think that’s happening?”

“I - I don’t know.” It was a lie and Bertholt knew it, but he only looked away sadly instead of pressing for more.

“Alright then.”

Neither of them resumed their run. Instead they walked together along the forest path, going deeper and deeper into the trees and climbing higher and higher until they began to approach the highest point of the path. There, just over the crest they could just make out the glimmer of the lake below through the trees.

 

___________________

 

Reiner couldn’t help but feel guilty when he saw the lake. It was years ago when they first joined the recruits that he swore to Bertholt that they’d return to their hometown. And while the other recruits found it odd or even sad, assuming that his village had been destroyed by the feral titans, only Bertholt knew what Reiner really meant. Only Bertholt understood how much he missed home. Marley was a hard place to grow up as an Eldian, but Reiner and Bertholt knew nothing else. And now that they were trapped on this island, surrounded by monsters and devils alike, only Bertholt ever really understood what was really going through his head.

Reiner sighed inwardly, tearing his gaze away from the lake as the pair began to slowly make their way down the sloping path silently. He should tell Bertholt. Tell Bertholt everything. Just mentioning that he was having trouble remembering wasn’t enough. He needed to tell Bertholt everything about what was going on. Reiner glanced sidelong at his friend.

Bertholt’s face was drawn with a silent suffering and Reiner felt a cold weight drop even lower in the pit of his stomach. His eyes were dark with worry, his jaw clenched, sweat gleamed on his skin, and his entire body, tall and lean though it were, seemed almost withered, like a tree in high winter. _He made another mistake,_ he realized. _He should have told Bertholt the truth._

“Bertholt,” he whispered, the sound leaving his lips before he had really thought everything through.

Bertholt looked back, surprised and a little unsure as Reiner stood completely still in the center of the path.

Reiner hesitated for only another moment. He had made up his mind. _He needed to tell Bertholt the truth. He needed to tell him everything, no matter how embarrassing it was_. “I’m - I think I’m - losing my dynamic.”

“Your dynamic?” Bertholt blinked in surprise. Clearly, this wasn’t what he was expecting to hear in the slightest. Reiner couldn’t blame him for being surprised. They were taught in Marley that once you presented, you had that dynamic for the rest of your life. To have a shifting dynamic was unheard of. And deeply problematic. Bertholt shook his head slightly in confusion, as if trying to clear it. “You - you mean - ”

“I don’t think I’m really an Alpha anymore,” Reiner said quietly, still staring hard at the ground, unable to look at Bertholt as shame bubbled up in his gut. “Or, if I am, I probably won’t be for much longer.”

“Reiner,” Bertholt said gently and although Reiner wasn’t looking at him he knew exactly which expression he was wearing. It was the same one he wore when he comforted Eren when he declared he’d kill every last titan. It was the one he wore when he told Armin he’d one day see the ocean. It was the expression he reserved for comforting people he pitied, particularly those who sounded insane.

“No, Bertholt, listen,” Reiner looked up, holding his hand out to stop Bertholt from speaking. He _needed_ his friend to believe him, no matter how insane he sounded. “It’s - it’s hard to explain. I don’t really even know where to start.” Reiner trailed off, unsure of how much he should say and how much might cause Bertholt even more stress. He drew in a steadying breath. “That night - when I kissed you - you asked me if I was a warrior or a soldier.” He looked at Bertholt squarely. “Why did you ask me that?”

Bertholt looked dumbfounded and blushed. When he had mentioned it before he was in the middle of a back and forth conversation with Reiner, but now he was being questioned about it directly while cornered in the middle of the woods where he couldn’t escape or deflect. Now he actually was expected to talk about it. “I - I don’t know,” he stuttered, his cheeks still pink. “Does it matter?”

“It matters,” Reiner said softly. “Please. Why did you say that?”

Bertholt hesitated, then sighed, resigning himself to having the inevitable conversation. “Because you didn’t seem right. And you weren’t right. You weren’t yourself at all.”

“No,” Reiner agreed softly. “I wasn’t myself. I was - something else. But I wasn’t an Alpha at the time. And there was something about your smell, Bertholt. Something that I needed. You - you smelled like an Alpha and it just reminded me of before and I - ” He stopped, unsure of how to explain it. “I just - I was getting flooded with pheromones and memories and after a while I think I got my wires crossed and I just needed - I just needed something that I shouldn’t have. I needed an Alpha and you were there. That’s no excuse, but that’s the only one I have. I’m sorry, Bertholt. I really am.”

“You - you don’t need to apologize,” Bertholt said softly, although he looked a little alarmed by what Reiner was saying. “You were confused.”

“That’s the problem,” Reiner said softly. “I keep getting confused. I need an Alpha to keep me anchored.” He sighed. “That’s why I don’t really think I’m an Alpha. I can’t rely on myself anymore. And when I’m not an Alpha, I’m not a warrior. That’s why I keep forgetting things. That’s why I keep thinking I’m a soldier. But when there’s another Alpha around me, sometimes it helps me remember.”

“Is that - that’s why you kissed me? You - you needed another Alpha and you - ”

 _“No.”_ Reiner hesitated. “Yes? I - I honestly don’t know, Bertholt. I know that’s not a good answer. And it was wrong of me. I honestly don’t know what came over me. And I’m sorry.” He looked Bertholt squarely in the eye. “I mean that. I never should have crossed that line and I’m not going to use my weakness as an excuse for why I did it. I was wrong. And I apologize.”

“It’s alright Reiner,” Bertholt said again, looking slightly uncomfortable at how apologetic Reiner was being. “Really. You don’t have to keep apologizing. I was just - I was surprised. That’s all. But you weren’t acting weak and you didn’t cross a line.” He smiled faintly. “I can handle anything you can throw at me, Reiner.”

“I know you can. But that doesn’t mean that you should have to.”

Bertholt pursed his lips. “We have to do a lot of things that we shouldn’t have to. That’s what we signed up for when we became warriors.” Reiner looked away at that, his features hardened and dark. “Reiner,” Bertholt said, his voice quiet and warm. He took a step forward so that stood close together on the forest path, surrounded by trees, completely wrapped up together in their only little piece of the world, if only for a moment. “Please tell me what’s really going on. Stop giving me bits and pieces and just tell me.”

“I’m trying,” he said. “I don’t really know myself, but I’ll try to explain it the best I can.” He ran his hand through his hair wearily. “You know that Marcel and I - we were together, right?”

“Yes,” Bertholt said softly. “We all knew. But that was years ago. What does that have to do with your memory issues?”

“Everything.” Reiner drew in a deep breath. “Marcel - Marcel did something to me. Back in Marley before I ever presented. He knew how badly I wanted to be chosen to inherit a titan. It - it meant everything to me. It’s all I ever wanted.”

Bertholt nodded. “I remember.”

“After Marcel presented as an Alpha, he came to me. He - he told me there was a way to ensure that I would present as an Alpha. And that he would show me. I agreed to do it, no matter what it was or what the cost. I would have done anything to be a shifter and I trusted Marcel with my life, but I didn’t expect it to go in that direction. But it worked. I presented as an Alpha and Marley let me inherit a titan. We just - we didn’t realize what the consequences would be. Or at least, I didn’t.’”

Bertholt blinked in confusion. “You’re saying that Marcel figured out a way to change your dynamic? To trick Marley into giving you a titan?” When Reiner nodded in response, Bertholt frowned and Reiner knew he was sorting through the information, looking for a flaw in what Reiner was telling him. Although no one in Paradis really gave Bertholt any credit, his mind was nearly as sharp as Armin’s and was equally as logical and as cunning. “Is it even possible to change dynamics?” Bertholt asked softly.

“Marcel’s did, in the end,” Reiner said bitterly. “By the time we got to Paradis he turned to an Omega. You smelled it, didn’t you?”

Bertholt blushed and gave a faint nod. “I thought - but then I assumed I had to be wrong.”

“You weren’t,” Reiner said wearily. “And if Marcel’s dynamic could change, then it’s equally feasible that mine can.” He shrugged. “I know it’s not exactly proof, but it’s all that I have right now until I actually present as something different.”

Bertholt paused, his brow knit. “So you’re - you’re not really an Alpha then, are you?”

“No,” Reiner didn’t see the point in lying about it now. And he certainly didn’t see the point in trying to defend himself. He shrugged, trying to downplay how much that fact hurt him. “I don’t actually know what I was, originally. All I know is what I am now.”

Bertholt slowly exhaled. He looked perplexed but he was no longer smiling; Reiner assumed that meant that Bertholt believed him. “I just don’t understand how this is even possible,” he said softly. “None of the medical officers ever mentioned that that was even a possibility when we - ”

“Bertholt.” Reiner looked up at his friend sadly. “I don’t exactly think they ever thought this would happen - ” He gestured around them helplessly, “ - any of this. And even if they did, I doubt they would have mentioned it.”

Bertholt closed his eyes and nodded. “No, you’re right. And it makes sense. I remember right before you presented. You - you were almost a Beta. Before you presented, I could smell that you weren’t an Alpha, I just - ” Bertholt shook his head, “you wanted to be a shifter so badly I couldn’t bear to tell you. I thought it would destroy you. But then your scent changed. And then you presented as an Alpha. So I thought everything had worked out the way it was supposed to.”

Reiner laughed bitterly. “If I had known this would have become such a problem, I never would have agreed to it. I doubt even Marcel knew this would have happened. None of us had any idea. I’m sorry, Bertholt,” Reiner said softly, unsure of what else to say.“I thought this was what I wanted.” 

Bertholt’s features twisted.“We all wanted this.We had no way of knowing it would have ended up this way.No one knew.”

Reiner smiled sadly.“I think Marcel had an idea, at least.That’s why he was trying to save his brother.”

Bertholt started at that.  “He - he apologized because - ”Bertholt’s eyes widened as he suddenly understood.“Marcel did that so that you’d be chosen to get the serum instead of Porco.So Porco wouldn’t have to come here.”

Reiner nodded.“ Reiner wrapped his arms around himself, as if suddenly chilled.“And he did everything he could to make sure I took Porco’s place.He trained me, turned my dynamic, and even recommended me to the officers over his own brother, all under the guise that he loved me and wanted me to fulfill my dreams of being chosen to be a shifter.And I fell for it.And now I’m - something in between.” Reiner sighed and turned back to Bertholt.“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to have to deal with it.And I - I was ashamed - ”

“Reiner.”Bertholt’s voice was soft and gentle.It wasn’t accusatory or disgusted.Just - quiet.And sad.Bertholt went to Reiner’s side and stood next to him, his familiar looming presence a comfort to Reiner.“You don’t need to be ashamed.You never need to be ashamed around me, alright?You’re my best friend, Reiner.I’m here for you - for whatever you need.But you can’t hide things like this.Not from me, at least.”

Reiner nodded.“I’m sorry,” he said roughly.“I’m sorry for everything.I’m sorry I’m so weak.”

“You’re not weak.   You’re the strongest person I know, Reiner.  Without question.  Stop doubting yourself so much.  You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Reiner chuckled darkly at that.“I’m losing my dynamic, Bertholt.Marley likes its warriors to be Alphas for a reason, you know.And you’ve seen what’s happening.I’m losing my mind.I’m compromising this entire mission because I can’t keep my stories straight.Because I’m not a real Alpha.”

“This mission has been compromised since day one,” Bertholt said softly.“Sending a bunch of kids into enemy territory with no help, no guidance, and no backup?It’s a wonder we made it this far.”Bertholt smiled at Reiner and clasped his shoulders, turning him to face him.“We’ll stick with the plan for now.We’ll give Annie a few days with her contact and we’ll see what happens.And then we’ll make our next plan.But this mission’s failures are absolutely not your fault.Not at all.In fact, our mission’s greatest successes were mostly due to you and your leadership.You saved us from certain disaster, Reiner.And while Annie might not say it to your face, she trusts you.She relies on your judgment and all of us rely on your leadership here.”

Reiner smiled weakly, relief flooding him.“You - you didn’t have to say that, Bertholt.”

“It’s the truth.”Bertholt’s voice was fierce and leveled and his hazel eyes were bright. _He really believed that._

“Thank you, Bertholt."  Reiner sighed wearily.  "I know it’s not what you want to deal with right now. That’s why - that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to make things worse. But - ”

“But things were getting too bad for you to not tell me?” Bertholt supplied, turning back to Reiner. He didn’t seem angry or upset. Just tired. “I’m glad you told me before it got any more out of hand. I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me.”

Reiner nodded, thinking guiltily of his masturbatory fantasies involving Bertholt. _No, he didn’t need to know that._ Some secrets Reiner could keep. Bertholt was still talking, although it was mostly to himself as he thought out loud, trying to wrap his head around what Reiner had told him. Finally, he turned back to Reiner.

Bertholt sighed heavily, staring out at the lake. “So this could happen to any of us? At any time?”

Reiner paused at that. He honestly didn’t think Bertholt would believe that his dynamic was changing in the first place. He wasn’t sure he was really ready to explain the rest. “No - I - I don’t think so. I think yours and Annie’s dynamics are safe.”

Bertholt’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Why is only yours changing, then?”

“It’s because of what Marcel did,” Reiner said. “The thing that Marcel did changed my dynamic but it also affected his as well. That’s why he turned to an Omega.” Reiner shrugged. “Without him being here and anchoring me to my Alpha dynamic, I guess it’s starting to change back.”

“And you changing dynamics again is causing the memory lapses.” Bertholt frowned, still thinking. “What exactly did Marcel do to you? Perhaps we could replicate it again?”

Reiner hesitated, then continued. “Marcel told me he’d submit to me,” Reiner said as clinically as possible. “I didn’t really understand it at first but then he submitted - repeatedly - and it did something to me. I hadn’t presented yet but - ” Reiner allowed himself a slight, savage grin, “- nothing is more Alpha than having another submit to you.” He let the grin slip away and frowned. “My guess is that eventually, when it was my time to present, I presented as an Alpha only because I had made another Alpha submit to me.”

Bertholt was quiet for a moment, but that wasn’t unlike him. He liked to think, to let his mind wander over ever explanation and possibility before he spoke. Reiner waited, shifting uncomfortably where he stood, wishing that this entire conversation were over. When Bertholt looked up again, his eyes were clear and bright, his brow knitted as he continued to examine each parcel of information Reiner provided. “But how - how exactly did this even happen? What kind of submission - ” His eyes widened as realization flooded him. “Oh. You - you and Marcel - he submitted to you - ” Bertholt blushed a furious red “- _sexually?”_

“Bertholt!” Reiner practically whimpered. He had been trying so hard to tiptoe around that word and around any details. He assumed that Bertholt knew what Marcel and he had been up to and since Bertholt had never said a word all this time, Reiner hoped that innuendo would be enough of an explanation. But now Bertholt - who never spoke a word about sex - was suddenly addressing it head-on? Reiner suddenly felt like a schoolboy again and turned as red as Bertholt. “Don’t - don’t say things like that.”

Bertholt sighed, ignoring Reiner’s embarrassed stuttering. He was always the realist of the two anyway and never had a problem discussing things directly, regardless of how strange the clinical discussion sounded. “So that’s how Marcel was able to do it.” He rubbed his hand over his face wearily. “They warned us in class that our dynamics were closely tied to sex. It was how Eldians reproduced centuries ago - ”

“Bertholt,” Reiner said in a pained voice. “Please, I - I can’t talk about this with you. Not - not about that.”

Bertholt closed his eyes for a moment. And when he opened them again he gave a sad smile to Reiner. “You don’t have to. I - I already know.” He hesitated, suddenly blushing furiously. “I’m sorry - I should have mentioned it earlier, but I didn’t want to admit that I had intruded. But I - I saw you and Marcel,” Bertholt looked away, turning even redder. “I saw what you two did together.” He glanced up at Reiner then away again, as if revealing a secret. “I followed you one night. Back in Marley.”

“You - you spied on us?” Reiner knew that his nightly activities weren’t really a secret to Annie and Bertholt, but he never knew that he had actually been watched. Reiner felt his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. _What had Bertholt seen?_ He had done so many things with Marcel; did Bertholt only see them kissing? Touching? Was Marcel leading Reiner along like he did at first, showing him what to do and telling him how to do it while Reiner enthusiastically obeyed? Or was it later when Reiner knew how good it all felt and when Marcel was more pliant and let Reiner take and take and take?

Reiner swallowed. “What exactly did you see?” He didn’t really want to know. But not knowing was somehow worse.

Bertholt blushed at that and glanced away. “I - I wanted to make sure you two were okay. I didn’t really know what was going on. Not entirely.” Bertholt wrapped his long arms around himself as he walked. “I saw - some - of what you did. I was young and didn’t really understand what was happening. That part’s not important. But, what I think matters now is that I heard what you said.” He listlessly brushed his graceful fingers over the fibers of his sweater, still not looking at Reiner. “That much I do remember.”

Reiner looked away at that. After all these years he had hoped that the shameful things he did to Marcel would stay buried in the past. And that Bertholt and the other people who knew Marcel never would know. And now all he could think about was that Bertholt had seen him with Marcel, seen their bodies straining against each other, heard the sounds they made together; it made him feel both embarrassed and a little relieved. There really was no sense in hiding it anymore, then. He sighed heavily and looked up at Bertholt weakly. “So, you know then.”

“You kept telling him to submit.”

“Bertholt - ” Reiner wanted to explain. He wanted to defend himself, to find a reason why what he did wasn’t strange or shameful or ridiculous. He wanted to explain it all but he suddenly found that he didn’t really have an explanation other than that he liked it and it felt good. Reiner faltered at that.

Bertholt was still looking away, shamefaced. “I completely forgot about that,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “I should have - I should have realized. I should have known. I should have been able to guess with the changing scents that - ”

“Bertholt,” Reiner said softly. “There’s no way you could have known what was going on. I didn’t even know.”

Bertholt sighed. “And whatever Marcel knew about it is long since gone.” He shook his head. “He should have told someone. At least - at least me. That way I would have known. That way in case something happened you wouldn’t have been left all alone to deal with the mess he made and I wouldn’t have been left in the dark.”

“He might have just been waiting to tell you once we were here. He was probably just waiting for the right time and just never got the chance.”

Bertholt sighed again. “It doesn’t matter. He’s gone now and now we need to figure out a way out of this.” He frowned, still thinking. “So submission - it’s what you need to stay anchored, isn’t it?” Bertholt supplied softly and Reiner nodded miserably. Bertholt nodded to himself, thinking aloud. “ So, Marcel submitted to you so you'd present as an Alpha so that you’d have a better chance of being selected to inherit a titan. He found a way to trick your body into thinking it was something it’s not.” Bertholt suddenly flushed as he suddenly realized what he said. “Sorry! I - I didn’t mean - ”

“No, it’s alright,” Reiner said, shrugging. Now that Bertholt knew he felt as if an immense weight had been lifted from his chest. And he didn’t feel nearly as ashamed as he thought he would; if anything, he felt proud. Proud that once again he was forced to overcome nearly impossible odds, and managed to do it through sheer strength of willpower. “I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”

“You don’t need to be an Alpha to make this mission a success, Reiner,” Bertholt said firmly. “You’ve already saved us from disaster numerous times and it was through your leadership that salvaged this. It has nothing to do with your dynamic and everything to do with you.”

Reiner smiled weakly. “I’d say thank you except I think we both know that this mission is in trouble. And not just because we’re running out of leads to where the Founding Titan is.” He gestured helplessly. “If I can’t get my memory under control, then I might be too much of a liability to continue.”

“Don’t say that,” Bertholt snapped, his eyes flashing angrily. “Don’t ever say that - ”

“It’s alright, Bertholt,” Reiner said wearily, holding his hands up. “It’s not ideal, I know. But I’ve also accepted that. I just don’t want you and Annie to have to suffer because I slipped up. You two are holding yourselves together so well and I’m constantly on the verge of messing everything up.”

“But your memory problems are only occurring because of your dynamic, right?” Bertholt’s frown deepened. “That’s why you’re struggling to remember if you’re a warrior or a soldier! You’re only a warrior when you’re an Alpha.”

“I think so.”

Bertholt pressed his fingers to his temples again wearily. “But if you presented as an Alpha then why is there a problem now? That’s what you are. You shouldn’t need an anchor. Eldians from the past were supposed to present once and then their dynamic stayed permanent.”

“I’m also not a normal Eldian” Reiner said softly. “I’m a titan shifter. So I’m guessing that my dynamic can shift as well. Marcel called it a turn. Apparently since we’re shifters our dynamic is a little more fluid than it should be. Marcel submitting to me helped reinforce the idea of me being an Alpha, even though it was a lie. But it came at a cost. Alphas don’t submit, so making me present as an Alpha made him turn to an Omega.” Reiner let out a slow breath. “Without Marcel submitting to me, I’m slipping back to whatever I was supposed to be. Maybe a Beta.” He laughed roughly, despite himself. “Hell, maybe I’m even an Omega.”

“Don’t - don’t say that,” Bertholt looked pained at the thought.

“Well it’s happening. I don’t really know how to stop it.”

Bertholt sighed. He suddenly looked older than Reiner remembered. Maybe it was the stress of the situation, maybe it was the forest’s light, or maybe Bertholt had grown up without Reiner ever really noticing until now. “So,” Bertholt said heavily, “what if you do end up presenting as something different? What if you turn and present as a Beta?”

Reiner shrugged. “I’m not sure. I don’t know if that’ll make things better or worse. Maybe my head will be clear and I won’t keep forgetting what I am if I just let myself slip back to what I was supposed to be. That’s the best case scenario.”

Bertholt nodded. “And the worst case is that you’d remember nothing at all of being a warrior. You’d only be a soldier.”

Reiner shrugged. “Possibly. But I don’t really think our dynamics affect memory like that. My guess is that if I’m anything other than an Alpha I might not be able to shift again. That’s what worries me.”

“Because you’ll lose the will to shift,” Bertholt whispered, his eyes darkening. “You won’t want to hurt anyone so you’ll lose the will to transform into your titan.” Bertholt closed his eyes. “So letting your dynamic go could result in you potentially losing your memory, losing your titan form, or even losing both?”

Reiner nodded. He honestly didn’t have an answer.

“So the only guarantee we have that you’ll stay you is keeping you as an Alpha.”

Reiner shrugged. “If I stay an Alpha, I remember that I’m a warrior. But there’s nothing here to keep me as an Alpha. I’m just going to keep on slipping.”

“We don’t know that for sure!” Bertholt began pacing angrily while Reiner stood unmoving in the center of the path. “There must be a way to keep you as an Alpha. You need to - ” Bertholt blushed “ - to dominate someone, don’t you? Would that work? Is that what does it?”

“No, Bertholt,” Reiner said firmly. There was something in Bertholt’s voice that he didn’t like. A hesitancy. A suggestion. “That’s not how it works.”

Bertholt ignored him. “If you get an Alpha to submit to you then - it will reassert your Alpha status?”

Reiner hesitated. “That’s what Marcel and I did. But I don’t think it’ll work with anyone else. I - I loved Marcel. There was something deeper there. I don’t know if it’ll work on just anyone and I’m not stupid enough to find out.”

“Reiner,” Bertholt murmured, looking up at Reiner, his eyes unnaturally bright. He paused, his head cocked a little to the side as he was thinking, his brow furrowed, his limbs relaxed; Reiner didn’t like the looks of this. Bertholt was thinking. And more than thinking, he looked like he had already found a solution. “Use me.”

Reiner blinked. “What?”

“Use me,” Bertholt repeated, his voice steady and sure. “You know it’s the only solution and I know you’re not suggesting it because you don’t want to hurt me. But it’s our only choice. I’m an Alpha. I can do whatever Marcel did for you. Whatever you need, I can take it.”

Bertholt was staring at him, his eyes so bright they almost looked like Eren’s. There was no hesitancy, no doubt, no apprehension. Just that same determination and levelheaded focus in his features that he had when he was practicing his marksmanship or when he was swinging through the trees in his 3DMG.

Reiner stared, the look on Bertholt’s face both frightening and captivating him. He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly remembered a conversation he heard with Shadis and another officer discussing Bertholt. _Hoover is the best in his class at 3DMG usage. His technique and handling is utterly flawless. I’ve never seen someone take to it with such finesse and grace._ People always overlooked Bertholt because he was quiet. But it was a mistake. They forgot that Bertholt was cunning and intelligent, often loosing their tongues around him because they forgot he was there. He was physically intimidating in his height but his intimation skills were often negated by his comforting and kind attitude. He was the absolute best at his 3DMG; something everyone forgot because Mikasa was better at the _killing_ part of the 3DMG. But as for actual _flying_ Bertholt was better than Mikasa. Better than the legendary Captain Levi. And everyone overlooked him.

Reiner wasn’t overlooking him now. Reiner had never overlooked him. He had always seen the beauty in Bertholt, the fierceness, the traits that made him an Alpha, even if everyone else dismissed him as weak-willed. But Bertholt was actually one of the strongest-willed people Reiner had ever met. He was on par with Armin in his cunning and constantly thinking mind; but he also knew how to play his cards. Bertholt like to observe, he liked to wait and watch. He wasn’t passive; he was patient. And Bertholt never made a move unless he had thought every little detail over and considered every little possibility.

Which meant that he had thought about this. Bertholt had thought about being with Reiner. Not just being with Reiner but letting Reiner kiss and touch him, letting Reiner push him down and push himself into him. He had thought about submitting to Reiner and he had decided that it was an acceptable course of action. Otherwise he wouldn’t have offered.

Reiner swallowed. Deeming an action to be acceptable wasn’t the same was wanting something, but it was the closest thing to permission Reiner had ever had from his friend. “You - ” his mind was spinning so much he could barely get the words out. “You - you’d let me - _what?_ ”

Bertholt smiled faintly at Reiner’s flabbergasted reaction, his cheeks only slightly tinged red. “Reiner,” he said warmly, “You're my best friend. If you keep slipping up someone’s going to notice. And either the Eldians will figure it out and kill you or we’ll fail our mission and you’ll get decommissioned. Either way, it doesn’t end well. And - Reiner, I can’t watch you die. I won’t. I’ll do whatever it takes to save you.”

Reiner felt himself snap back into place with a jolt and he quickly found his voice again. “And I’m not letting you do something like this,” he said angrily. “I won’t. You don’t understand what you’re offering, Bertholt.”

“I understand better than you think.” Bertholt gripped Reiner’s shoulders, staring down at him with his eyes shining with a bright determination. “You cant ask me to sit back and just let you get hurt. Let me try to fix it.”

Reiner knocked his arms away. “And I’m not going to let you do something so ridiculous just to try to make me feel better because I’m messing up. It’s not worth it.”

“Your life isn’t worth it?”

“Not if it causes you pain,” Reiner turned away from him, breathing heavily. Bertholt didn’t like men. Bertholt didn’t actually want to do anything with Reiner and Reiner knew that. Was it really fair for him to try to take advantage of the situation just because it was something that he wanted? “Bertholt,” he said, staring hard at the trees and not bothering to look at his friend. “You said you saw me and Marcel. You saw what we did. What that would require. Don’t even bother lying to me and tell me that you’d be alright with that.”

“I’m not alright with most of what we’ve done, Reiner,” Bertholt said stubbornly. “But if it’s to help you, then I’d do anything.” He hesitated, then slowly placed his hand on Reiner’s shoulder again. “Reiner, look at me.” When Reiner slowly turned to face him, Bertholt smiled. “I meant what I said. You’re my best friend. I would do anything for you. Anything at all. And if this is what you need, then I’ll do that.”

Reiner took in a deep breath. “Then tell me something first. If my dynamic were stable - if I didn’t need you to do this to stay an Alpha and a warrior, would you still give me the same offer?”

Bertholt blinked, his hazel eyes wide and Reiner saw what he was looking for: hesitation. Reluctance. Bertholt didn’t want to sleep with Reiner at all. He just wanted to save him.

Reiner smiled sadly. “I didn’t think so.” He slowly drew himself up to his full height and squared his shoulders. “Thank you, Bertholt. Thank you for listening and for understanding. And for offering to do something that you otherwise wouldn’t want to do. I appreciate that more than I can say.” He smiled faintly at Bertholt. “You’ve always been the only person I’ve ever been able to count on.”

“Reiner,” Bertholt said softly. “If this is what you need - ”

“I need you, Bertholt. I’ve always needed you. But - not like that. Not if it ruins everything.” Reiner put his hand on Bertholt’s shoulder. “I will never do anything to hurt you, Bertholt. And I nearly already ruined things with you before. I’m not planning on ever taking that risk again.”

Bertholt slowly exhaled. “Al-alright. I - I think I understand. But Reiner, I know you said you don’t want to, but if it’s what you really need - my offer still stands.” His cheeks only flushed a faint pink this time.

Reiner grinned widely and let his hand fall away. “Thanks, Bertholt. But I’d rather only keep that as a last resort.” He paused, glancing up at the tree line. “We’ve been gone a while. We should probably head back soon.”

Bertholt nodded. “Yeah.”

They turned and started walking together, continuing down the path side by side. Reiner felt lighter than he’d felt in weeks. Everything was going to be alright. Bertholt knew the truth and instead of rejecting him offered to take Marcel’s place; offered to give himself up in a position he absolutely never wanted, for Reiner’s benefit. Bertholt really did love and care about him. And that was entirely the reason why Reiner never wanted to hurt him or make him do something he wouldn’t want to do.

Bertholt glanced sidelong at him as they walked together back to the barracks. “Don’t worry, Reiner,” he said. “We’ll think of something. I promise.” He smiled warmly at Reiner. “I’ll figure something out.”

And Reiner knew without a doubt that Bertholt somehow would.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo much talking and still no sex.
> 
> And I’m sorry this chapter was so long. I literally would type up 10k words, edit 4k out, then end up typing another 5k while editing. It was a horrible cycle and eventually I just accepted that this was going to be crazy long. But the good news is that the next few chapters are nearing completion already. Oh, and there’s sex. Not yet, but soon. So just try to bear with me a bit longer for the good stuff :)


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

 

 

Reiner slumped down in his chair, hoping the lecturer wouldn’t notice his poor attention. Yes, he was sure the history of the macroeconomic structure of the Underground was important but at the moment he couldn’t really be bothered to try to care. His mind was on other matters.

It had been almost a week since his conversation with Bertholt. Almost a week since his best friend offered to submit to him. And a week since he had said no.

He still barely believed it happened. He still woke up every morning to the sweet, comforting smell of Bertholt beside him in the bunk and thought it was all a dream. But it wasn’t. Because every morning Bertholt asked him if he was a warrior or a soldier. And every night Bertholt asked with wide hazel eyes if he needed anything.

Reiner kept saying no. He had to. He couldn’t bear to tell Bertholt yes. His mind kept drifting to what it might be like, touching his friend’s skin, holding his lithe body, and stretching Bertholt in every possible way, but the rational part of his mind always reeled in outrage. _Bertholt is your friend_. Reiner knew that a night with Bertholt might feel wonderful in the moment, but it wasn’t worth destroying his friendship with him. And even though Bertholt offered to submit to Reiner, Reiner knew that Bertholt didn’t fully understand what that actually entailed.

So Reiner persevered, continuing to smile every morning and tell Bertholt he was a warrior because he knew that was what he was supposed to say. He didn’t mention his increasing doubts about the so-called evils of Paradis, his growing fear about his potential inability to transform into the Armored Titan should he need to, and he certainly never mentioned his lustful thoughts about Bertholt. He was happy that Bertholt knew he was unstable because Bertholt helped keep him steady and it was the best his friend could do without crossing a line. But he couldn’t ask Bertholt to anchor him the way Marcel did. He couldn’t put his friend in that impossible position.

But Reiner also needed to find a solution to his problem. Yes, the three warriors were more or less secured positions in the top of the class, meaning they would be permitted to go to the interior to join the Military Police. And there, with any luck, they’d be able to find some clues to the whereabouts of the real king or at least some rumor or information about the Founding Titan. They were fast approaching a crucial junction in their mission. And that meant Reiner needed to be at the top of his game.

After Marcel’s death Reiner held himself together out of grief and rage at Marcel’s untimely death and - admittedly - at the knowledge that he had been used and lied to. He used his fury to fuel his Alphaness, making himself the leader of the warriors and issuing the orders and making the plan. That Annie and Bertholt agreed to follow his ideas only reaffirmed that he was the leader and therefore the Alpha. His dynamic remained thankfully unchanged.

But once they joined the military something happened. It wasn’t instantaneous; it was a gradual shift, a slow turn that crept up on Reiner so slowly and with such subtly that he didn’t notice until it was too late. He cared about the recruits. He considered them friends and he genuinely appreciated their friendship and valued their lives. He felt the overwhelming need to protect and care for Armin, he looked at Eren like a little brother, and Jean was a friend who was always reliable, especially when Bertholt was elsewhere. And as he made friends Reiner began for the first time in years to feel at peace with himself. He was Reiner, a friend and big brother to the soldiers. He was content with that.

And with contentment came doubt about his Marleyan mission. And with doubt came a slow shatter of his dynamic. Alphas didn’t doubt. Alphas knew what they wanted and made sure they got it. And what Reiner wanted was for his friends to be safe. But Reiner also wanted to complete his mission. And Reiner couldn’t have it both ways. So he separated himself, quite accidentally, into two personae: the warrior and the soldier.

The solider was easy. It was Reiner in Paradis, Reiner around his friends, Reiner the way he always wanted to be but for some reason never could. The warrior Reiner faded from the forefront and became a distant dream, a memory conjured up during one of Annie’s meetings in the abandoned cabin, but never the primary mode of operation. Except now Reiner needed the warrior back. He needed to revert back to the titan shifter who would do anything for Marley, who would sacrifice everything he had for the cause, who would willingly cause the deaths of thousands for the sake of one mission -

Reiner needed to learn how to be a warrior again, for the sake of his mission and for the sake of Bertholt and Annie. They trusted him to lead and while it was fine to fall into a content and simple life amongst the recruits as a soldier during training, training was coming to an end. And that meant it was time to bring the warrior back. But for the life of him, Reiner only knew one way to become a warrior: the same way Marcel shaped him into one. He needed to make someone submit to him.

And if he wasn’t willing to let Bertholt do it, then that meant he needed to find someone else. No part of Reiner wanted to find a random stranger and have them submit to him, but perhaps even without a clear dynamic, their submitting might trigger something in him. It might soothe his Alpha nature and reaffirm what he was. A stranger submitting wasn’t the same as Marcel or Bertholt, but Reiner needed to try. At least he had that option as a last resort.

Reiner was so deep in thought he almost missed the ending of the lecture. Half the class had risen to their feet and were beginning to move toward the door when Reiner heard a soft voice calling his name.

“Reiner?” Armin Arlert’s big blue eyes looked up at him with his intense and perpetual wide-eyed stare. “Are you alright?”

Reiner started in surprise and quickly gathered his bearings. “Armin,” he said pleasantly, pushing himself to his feet. Out of the corner of his eye Reiner could see Bertholt watching him, but he smiled at Armin anyways. “Of course,” he said, pushing in his chair and beginning to follow the flow of the other recruits as they filed out of the lecture hall. “I was just lost in thought.” He gave the other recruit a rough grin. “It wasn’t the most entertaining lecture.”

“No,” Armin agreed with a laugh. “Even I struggled to pay attention today.”

Reiner chuckled at that. “Well, that at least makes me feel a little better about zoning out, then.”

“I wouldn’t feel too bad about it,” Armin said as they filed out of the hall. “We haven’t had a break in ages. It only makes sense that we would try to rest when we have the chance.”

Reiner nodded, keeping one eye on Armin and the other on Bertholt as the pair started walking toward the mess hall. He knew Bertholt would disapprove that he was with Armin; he had admittedly been spending more and more time with the small blonde lately and he figured he might as well accept that Armin was quickly becoming one of his closest friends here. At least, Armin was when Reiner was a soldier. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he said with an easy shrug, pushing the lingering thoughts of Bertholt out of his mind while he walked with Armin. “I heard a rumor that we might get a day off soon.”

Armin perked up at that. “Really? An actual day off?”

Reiner laughed. “Don’t get your hopes up too much. But I think we deserve one. They’ve been working us to the bone for months; the least they could do is let us rest a bit, especially before graduation.”

Graduation was fast approaching in less than a month away but at this point most of the recruits had accepted their rankings. Competition had faded into acceptance and an eagerness to start their lives. Most recruits planned on joining the Garrison, their dreams mostly centered on trying to get placed in either the best cities or in one close to home. The military for them was about getting a job that provided food and at least a little bit of money here and there, which was more than most people ever were guaranteed behind the walls. It had little to do with fighting titans and protecting their families and everything to do with surviving.

Reiner was, short of Mikasa, top of the class, so he had nothing to worry about when it came to placement. He would be offered a position in the interior and join the Military Police. Bertholt was ranked right behind him in third because although Bertholt was better with his 3DMG, his quietness and perceived passiveness docked him points. The same went for Annie; although she was a skilled fighter, she wasn’t quite as good at her 3DMG as Reiner and Bertholt and all of her absences from when she disappeared to shadow targets for their mission rendered her less reliable and lost her points.

Reiner was in a position where he didn’t have to worry about what would happen to him after graduation; but Armin certainly couldn’t make the same claim. His two best friends were already in the top ten and therefore qualified to go to the interior in the Military Police. But Armin wouldn’t have that choice. His choice was between the indolent Garrison and the suicidal Survey Corps. And Reiner knew exactly which one Armin was planning to join. Just because Armin wasn’t as vocal or loud as Eren didn’t mean his choice was a surprising one: Armin talked for days about exploring, about the world, and even about his parents noble but ultimately futile efforts. It broke Reiner’s heart knowing that he and all the answers to Armin’s questions and yet he couldn’t say a word and was forced to allow Armin to continue living his stifled existence in the walls.

But just because Reiner didn’t have the answers for Armin didn’t mean he didn’t care. If Armin was going to join the Survey Corps then he needed all the help he could get. So weeks ago when Armin mentioned his growing fears about his poor fighting skills, Reiner, being the kind hearted big brother that he was, offered his assistance to give Armin every bit of additional training he could, despite Bertholt later telling him he shouldn’t. And Armin had gratefully accepted.

“I would be grateful if they gave us a night off to actually relax,” Armin agreed, looking almost wistful at the thought. “I heard that Sasha managed to smuggle some meat out, so perhaps - ” He trailed off, his gaze fixed at a point behind Reiner. “Oh! I’m sorry. I - I think Bertholt’s waiting for you.”

Not surprised in the slightest, Reiner turned to find a tall, lean figure standing near the door to the lecture hall, clearly waiting for Reiner to finish talking. Reiner grinned at Armin, determined to leave things on a positive note. “What makes you think he’s waiting for me?”

Armin laughed, a sweet happy sound. _Who else would Bertholt be waiting for?_ “It’s alright,” he said, “Bertholt’s probably been wondering where you’ve been all day.”

“Yeah,” Reiner said. Although it was probably more accurate to say that Bertholt was probably wondering _what_ Reiner had been. _A soldier,_ Reiner thought guiltily. _He was a solider today._

Armin laughed and waved goodbye to Reiner. “Tell Bertholt I’m sorry for stealing you today!”

Reiner chuckled, waving as Armin dashed off towards the mess hall. But as Armin left Reiner’s guilt grew.

He promised Bertholt that he would work on focusing his mind on being a warrior. It would, Bertholt reasoned, stop Reiner’s mental slippage and would help anchor his Alpha dynamic. But Reiner hadn’t really been focusing on trying to anchor himself to his Alpha dynamic. Because he had a problem. A huge problem. And Reiner wasn’t entirely sure how to address it: Reiner was enjoying being taken care of.

Reiner couldn’t help himself. For the last few days, everything had been better. And Reiner knew why. Everyday, Bertholt made sure he was at Reiner’s side. He would quietly ask him how he was doing, gently ask him how he was feeling; and Reiner liked feeling that someone was looking out for him. Bertholt had also became more and more attentive. During the day Bertholt was constantly at Reiner’s side, constantly asking about how he was, and constantly helping him, whether it was getting him his rations for the day or putting clean sheets on his bed. Reiner knew that Bertholt was only being more present so that he could monitor Reiner more and keep on eye on him to ensure that Reiner wasn’t jeopardizing their mission with his slip ups. But Reiner also enjoyed having Bertholt be constantly with him.

He knew the reason he was enjoying all the attention was because Bertholt was acting like an Alpha around him. He was taking care of him, protecting him, making sure he was alright, and even defending him from the potential threat of the Eldians discovering what he was. But all of that Alphaness made Reiner feel weak. Because he wanted to be taken care of. He loved the way it felt to have someone looking out for him. And he wanted more of it. He craved it. He wanted to let Bertholt wrap his arms around Reiner and comfort him and make everything feel alright again.

And he knew it was dangerous. Because the more Alpha Bertholt acted, the less Alpha Reiner became. And now he knew his dynamic was fading fast but he didn’t do anything to stop it. He just wanted Bertholt to take care of him a little longer before he had to go back to being a warrior. Reiner was tired of calling the shots and making the horrible discussions that cost people their lives. He just wanted someone else to shoulder the burden and let him rest, even if it was just for another week.

 

______________

 

“Hey, Bertholt,” he greeted as he made his way back to the lecture hall.

Bertholt smiled weakly and gestured behind him. “Come walk with me?” Bertholt said softly.

Reiner glanced at the mess hall. “Shouldn’t we get lunch before Sasha eats it all?” he asked with a wry grin. It wasn’t even a good joke; he just wanted to keep the mood light. He didn’t want to talk about how his dynamic was fading and how his best friend offered to submit to him just to keep him anchored. He wanted to talk about normal things like the other recruits. And he knew which direction Bertholt had gestured in.

“Reiner, it’s important.”

Reiner knew that tone. Reiner knew that look. Bertholt wanted to talk about the mission. “Yeah, alright,” he nodded. Bertholt had gestured behind him to a path that ran behind the lecture hall into the woods. Almost a half mile back there was a small abandoned cabin that Annie had once found scouting and it was there that most of the warriors’ plans were made and meetings were had. Reiner didn’t want to go; he was having a good day today. He was happy. He didn’t want to talk about shortcomings and destruction; he wanted to eat dinner with his friends and not think about anything else. Then again, Bertholt never brought up their mission unless it was something that mattered. Reiner sighed inwardly. If anything, Reiner reasoned that discussing Marley might help anchor him more by reminding him of his mission so Reiner ignored the pang of hunger in his stomach and followed Bertholt silently to the path.

They hadn’t talked any more about Bertholt’s offer yet. They hadn’t discussed it other than to have Reiner say no. _Was this what Bertholt wanted to discuss?_

Bertholt broke the silence before they even made it to the cabin. “I spoke to Annie the other day,” he said softly once they were surrounded by the forest trees.

Reiner almost did a double take. “You talked to Annie?” he repeated faintly.

“Not about you! About the mission.” Bertholt glanced over his shoulder at the empty running path. “Nothing good, I’m afraid. Annie’s contact is back in town.”

 _Annie’s contact_. Annie used to have several contacts, all powerful and dangerous men in the interior with strong connections to the king. And she had lost every single one of them except one. Reiner knew the failure was hard on her but she was the only one who could do it. Bertholt didn’t have the personality and charm for the job and Reiner was too involved with the recruits to go missing for days on end and was too hard to miss in a stealth mission. The infiltration part was supposed to go to Marcel, who - Reiner now knew firsthand - was skilled in manipulation tactics while Annie would provide backup, intimidation, and protection as needed. But without Marcel, the entire job fell to Annie. And it wasn’t going well.

“She’s not going to follow him, is she?” Reiner didn’t know much about the tall man that Annie occasionally shadowed. He only knew that he was like a ghost, appearing only when specific, specialized squads came into town, and always vanished without a trace and often surrounded by rumors of bloodshed and mysterious disappearances that corresponded with his visits. The fact that Annie seemed frightened of him didn’t comfort Reiner or Bertholt.

Bertholt sighed, his features twisted in anguish. “I told her not to, but you know how she is. He’s her last contact. And our last chance of getting any real information.” He glanced behind him again and sighed. “This mission isn’t going well, Reiner.”

Reiner nodded, keeping his eyes on the tree line. They were still clear: no one was here; no one was listening. “I know,” he said quietly, trying to keep the disappointment and shame from leaking into his voice. Since the death of Marcel they’d been plagued by setbacks and doubts. And now, after being trapped within the walls for nearly five years, they were growing weary. They had spent too much time here and had too little to show for it. And they were running out of options. “So,” he said in a low voice. “She’s going to try again?”

Bertholt nodded, his eyes wide as he locked his gaze on the path ahead. “She heard that we’re going to have a night off soon so that the higher ups can conduct some sort of meeting. Her contact will definitely be there.” He swallowed, his face drawn and pale. He had never specifically _told_ Reiner that he loved Annie, but he never really had to. Every time her name was mentioned his eyes would brightened, his breathing would hitch, and sweat would start glistening on his temples. Bertholt glanced behind him again before continuing. “It’s our first night off in a while so there’s sure to be some sort of festivities going on. It’ll be a perfect time for her to slip out of the barracks and try to shadow her contact again without being noticed. Hopefully this time he’ll lead her somewhere good.”

“Do you think she’ll be successful this time?”

“No.” Bertholt answered the question so quickly that Reiner stopped walking in surprise. Bertholt stood still in the center of the path looking defeated, his eyes lowered and shoulder bowed. “He’s - he’s too dangerous. This isn’t working. None of this is working.” He let out a slow breath, then looked up at Reiner. “I hate to even think this way, but - I think we need to figure out what we’re going to do in case this doesn’t work.”

Reiner turned to Bertholt, startled. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“I know Annie’s doing her best, alright?” Bertholt murmured after a moment, his voice so quiet Reiner had to strain to hear it. “But if she strikes out then what are we supposed to do? What’s our next plan?”

Reiner hesitated. He wasn’t sure what Bertholt wanted him to say. “Do you think she’ll fail?” It was a legitimate question.

Bertholt shook his head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he’s a high up member and he has a lot of connections. But he’s also high up enough that he’s not stupid. She said he’s dangerous but he’s her only lead to the interior as of now.”

Reiner tried to not let the worry in Bertholt’s voice get to him. “Then I suppose we’ll know in a few days if this part of the mission is viable.”

“But if this doesn’t work then we’ve failed!” Bertholt hissed, turning to Reiner with a wild look in his eyes, desperate and afraid. “We’ll have nothing left! And if she fails, then what? What are we supposed to do when we’re out of options?”

“We’re not at that point yet, Bertholt,” Reiner said calmly. “Let’s just see what happens with Annie and her contact first. And if it doesn’t work out, then we’ll make a new plan. We’ll find a way to make this mission work. We always have. And we’ve survived worse set backs.” It felt strange, calling Marcel’s death a set back, but it seemed to placate Bertholt at least.

Bertholt sighed, the frantic energy draining from his body, looking wistfully at the trees swaying gently in the late afternoon wind. Reiner always marveled at how quickly Bertholt could go from riled up to calm and not for the first time wondered if it were a side effect of his titan power. The sweating certainly was. And Reiner was careful not to mention it because he knew how much Bertholt hated it. But he also wondered if Bertholt’s ability to snap to anger and then deflate again had anything to do with his titan’s little disappearing act; the transformation was a hard one for Bertholt, as generating such an immense amount of mass almost instantaneously was no easy feat. But more impressive was his ability to let the solid structure dissipate into steam in a moment’s notice. Reiner could no longer remember if Bertholt’s mood swings were a new trait or something he’d always had. He struggled to remember a lot of things now.

Bertholt finally looked up, his body limp and his eyes tired. “I - I just don’t want her to get hurt,” he said in a soft voice.

Reiner smiled and put a comforting hand on Bertholt’s shoulder. “Annie’s a fighter, Bertholt. She can hold her own.”

Bertholt smiled faintly at that. “I know. I just can’t shake the feeling that I’m starting to lose everyone I care about. First Marcel and then Annie and now - ” He stopped himself but for the briefest of moments, swallowing hard before he shook his head helplessly. “I can’t lose you, too, Reiner.”

Reiner didn’t know what to say to that.

Annie and Bertholt weren’t having the same problems as he was. They never forgot what they came for or where they came from. They were always warriors, masquerading as soldiers. But Reiner was beginning to forget. He was actually starting to believe that he was a solider.

It was a massive problem. It wasn’t even that he was a liability. He also was the self-appointed ringleader of the group. He had made this plan, he made the decision to join the military, he called the shots ever since they passed the walls. And if either Bertholt or Annie found out that he was compromised, they would all be in trouble. Marley had pinned its hopes on the warriors and the warriors had pinned their hopes on a man who was losing his mind. _Definitely not the best plan,_ Reiner thought grimly.

He wanted to tell Bertholt that losing him was a strong possibility. He wanted to tell him why everything was going so wrong and it was because of what Marcel made him become but also because of how he felt about Bertholt. He wanted to say so many things but instead he allowed himself to lapse into silence, staring hard at the ground in front of him, locking his jaw least he betray himself and tell Bertholt all the things he wished he could.

“Reiner?” Bertholt was looking at him, his hazel eyes wide and side. Reiner loved Bertholt’s eyes. They were beautiful, so round and bright, the hazel’s green dazzling like sunlight shining on jade, the amber brown tempering the green with gold, softening the intensity with gentle kindness, whispered sensitivity, murmured nurturing. They were the best part of Bertholt’s features because they showed the best part of Bertholt. His tall figure was the first and often the only thing people ever noted about Bertholt, but it was all wrong. Too lean to be intimating, too spindly to be strong; Bertholt’s height was the worst thing about him. Bertholt’s height was the only thing that reminded Reiner of the Colossal.

But Bertholt wasn’t like his titan. Yes, now he was constantly overheating and sweating, but other than that, its height was the only thing that ever made him titan-like. Bertholt wasn’t cruel and destructive and fatalistic. He was supportive and kind and discerning. He was all the things his titan wasn’t.

The thought almost comforted Reiner. He often felt guilty that his titan was so strong and yet he was so weak. But if Bertholt wasn’t like his titan either then perhaps it wasn’t really his fault; maybe inheriting the Armored Titan wasn’t a complete mistake after all. Not that it mattered at this point.

“Sorry,” Reiner said, giving Bertholt a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Bertholt. You’re not going to lose me, either. We’re going to make it through this and go home together, remember?”

Bertholt’s eyes were still sad but he smiled anyways. “Of course I do,” he said and his voice was warm again, softening as it always did when Reiner mentioned home. _Bertholt missed Marley._ Just because Reiner both longed for and dreaded returning to his life there didn’t mean the other warriors did. They had homes and families and friends. They had a life they wanted. Of course they missed it.

“Well,” Reiner said, trying to push aside his thoughts. He turned away from the path to the cabin and took a step back toward the barracks. “If this really is Annie’s last contact and she’ll have an opportunity to meet him tomorrow, then we really are getting down to the wire. Bertholt, we might actually have an end in sight after this.”

Bertholt nodded, joining Reiner as they began to walk back to the mess hall together. “Maybe,” he said. “I hope so.” They both were thinking about if Annie’s shadowing didn’t work out tomorrow. _What would they do then?_ “But you’re right. We are down to the wire and - ” He hesitated. Hesitated enough that Reiner knew what was going to come next. “This week will probably be stressful. A lot’s riding on this, whether it works out for the best or for the worst, so - ”

“Bertholt,” Reiner held up his hands. “I’m alright. Really. You don’t have to keep on checking up on me.”

 _Use me._ Reiner felt his heart start to beat hard in his chest at the memory of Bertholt offering himself up to him. He swallowed thickly, forcing himself to keep a straight face as he kept his eyes on Bertholt.

“I know you’re alright,” Bertholt said, his voice sounding almost faint to Reiner’s ears. “You keep saying that every time I ask. But - I just want you to know that if it does get to be too much - and if you start to waver - I just want you to know that my offer still stands.”

Reiner dropped his hands to his sides weakly. “I know,” he managed to say softly, his heart still beating too hard for his liking. “And I appreciate you offering. But as I said, I’m fine.”

“I just - I need you to be you. I need you to be Reiner. Not Reiner the soldier. My Reiner.”

Reiner knew Bertholt was just phrasing it that way to make a distinction between his warrior and soldier personae, but he couldn’t help a part of his heart swell at the words Bertholt used. _My Reiner._

Reiner swallowed, trying to force down a bubble of joy that had rising in his chest. Bertholt had called him his. Almost like a claim. Almost like an Alpha choosing a mate to protect and love and cherish.

“Yeah,” Reiner said, still completely in a daze but he knew he had to speak or Bertholt would feel uncomfortable. “I promise, I’ll do everything I can to be a warrior. Especially this week.”

_Use me._

Reiner swallowed. The way Bertholt’s voice had wavered, not with fear but with a hard decisiveness, the way his eyes blazed in apprehension but that were also burning with determination, the way his scent almost seemed to sweeten at the very mention.

_Bertholt had offered to submit._

“Reiner?” Bertholt asked, bringing Reiner out of his thoughts. “Are you - are you still getting confused?”

“I’m not getting confused,” Reiner managed, although his tongue felt like lead. He wasn’t confused, he was drawn in and consumed by the thought of Bertholt.

“Good,” Bertholt continued, utterly unaware that Reiner was struggling to keep his thoughts chaste and away from any thought of Bertholt’s body, the way his smooth tanned skin would contrast with the rough-spun white sheets, the way his voice would catch in his throat as he cried out in blissful pleasure. “I’m sorry if it’s annoying for me to ask all the time, but it’s the only way I’ll be able to tell. I just want to try to track how many times you have an episode every week and hopefully we’ll be able to use that to tell if you’re getting better or worse.”

Reiner felt himself nodded dumbly along with what Bertholt was saying. An episode. As if it were some simple medical event that had a definite beginning and an end. This wasn’t a seizure, this wasn’t some sort of outbreak; this was a slow and gradual slide, a gentle fall that grew exponentially out of control and that was wildly unpredictable. And Reiner’s biggest problem right now was Bertholt.

He wanted to tell Bertholt that his thoughts continued to stray to him.

But what did he want? To fuck him once so he could claim him for a night of fun? To have Bertholt be his Alpha? Or to be Bertholt’s? He didn’t know. He just knew he was captivated by the essence of Bertholt. And it was dangerous.

But if he told Bertholt the truth, Bertholt’s simple solution would be to have Reiner use him. And that was unacceptable. Unacceptable because Reiner refused to use Bertholt like that. Unacceptable because Reiner wasn’t some feral animal who couldn’t control his urges. And unacceptable because Reiner knew that Bertholt didn’t feel the same way: Bertholt didn’t like men and Bertholt was an Alpha. There wasn’t a single part of that situation that Bertholt would ever willingly want. And yet he suggested that Reiner violate every part of his constitution, if only to save Reiner from messing up their mission.

“Reiner?”

Reiner glanced guiltily at Bertholt. “Yeah, I’m fine.” When Bertholt didn’t look convinced he added, “I’m just worried about everything that’s going on. I’m just worried I won’t be able to fix it.” That wasn’t a lie. Reiner was done lying to Bertholt. He just couldn’t tell him everything. He couldn’t ruin their friendship over his weakness.

“Reiner,” Bertholt’s voice was quiet. Too quiet. And Reiner knew that meant something was wrong.

“You - you smell different.”

That surprised Reiner. “I smell different?”

Bertholt nodded, his cheeks flushed. “Like - before you presented. It was different. Your scent changed.” Bertholt scratched his ear, the gesture fleetingly reminding Reiner of Zeke before continuing. “Reiner. Does that mean?”

Reiner frowned. He hadn’t realized his scent was starting to change. But it made sense: he really was beginning to lose his dynamic as an Alpha. He had been slipping further and further away from himself and now he had finally come to his breaking point. He might actually turn. “Yeah,” he said softly. “It means what we’re doing isn’t working.”

Reiner closed his eyes. He needed to put a stop to this. He needed to regain some semblance of sanity and get ahold of himself. He was tired of being torn in two and he was tired of not knowing what was real and what was a lie. He needed to become Reiner the warrior again.

But how?

After Marcel’s death Reiner was still in Alpha mode. He wasn’t friends with the Eldians so he didn’t sympathize with them just yet. And whenever he wanted to, it was easy enough to seek out someone to get off with. It wasn’t hard to do behind the walls. It just wasn’t pleasant.

That left going to Bertholt and having him submit. _No! Not Bertholt,_ Reiner told himself furiously. _You can’t have him._

 _But Bertholt offered,_ a small voice murmured in his head.

 _Anything but Bertholt,_ Reiner told himself firmly. He hesitated. If not Bertholt, then that meant he needed to go to his back up plan: having a stranger submit to him.

Reiner sighed. If his choice was between seeking comfort from Bertholt or from a stranger, he’d rather it be a stranger. Better to have an awkward and shameful encounter with someone he didn’t know than ruin a lifelong friendship with the only person who mattered to him.

“Reiner,” Bertholt began but Reiner cut him off before he could offer because he didn’t think that he could say no if Bertholt offered again.

“No, Bertholt. There might be another way.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I - maybe I just need to go blow off some steam.”

Bertholt opened his mouth to argue but then a suddenly flash of understanding passed over him and mouth settled into a hard line instead. “Reiner - ”

“It’s not hard to find a soldier who wants to do the same,” Reiner said bitterly, looking down at the ground as he tried to ignore the heavy shame that weighed in his stomach. “I’ve -I’ve done it before.”

Bertholt’s face twisted in anguish at that before he quickly smoothed out his features again. “You - you have?”

Reiner looked up darkly. He wished he was the sort of person who only slept with people who mattered. He wanted sex to be special, like it was with Marcel. But after Marcel it simply became a tool to keep him stable. He hated that and even more, he hated that Bertholt knew that. “Does it really matter?”

“N-no,” Bertholt looked away. He hesitated after a moment. “Did it help?”

“It helped. For a little while.” Reiner shook his head. “But they’re not Marcel; they’re not an Alpha. It’s not the same. And then I start to forget things again. And I get confused.” He sighed heavily. “It’s a temporary fix. But it might stabilize me long enough to get to the next part of our mission.” He gave a small wave to Bertholt, trying to play off his dread and pretend this was the easiest thing in the world. “Cover for me if someone asks where I’m at, alright?”

“Reiner,” Bertholt murmured softly, his eyes wide. He looked like he wanted to stop Reiner but he didn’t know how. “Just - be - be careful, alright?”

Reiner turned and started walking towards the town. “I always am, Bertholt.”

 

______________

 

Reiner trudged down the worn path away from the barracks wearily.

 _This was a mistake._ He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to sleep with strangers. But he could feel himself rapidly spiraling out of control. He needed something that kept him anchored. He needed sex.

He had only been with a few people since Marcel. And he hated that. Reiner wanted to be with someone he loved, someone he cared deeply for. With Marcel he treasured every moment, every touch, every pleasurable sound. He wanted Marcel to feel just as good as he did and it was easy to feel good when every glance from Marcel made him feel like he was flying. But Marcel was dead. And there were days where his physical needs drove him to abandon his principles. There were days where he needed to fuck.

He sometimes wondered about Annie and Bertholt. But they weren’t seeing anyone before and to Reiner’s knowledge had never been with anyone before, so perhaps that’s why the urge wasn’t as overwhelming for them. They were both also Alphas while Reiner was only one through manipulation. Reiner wasn’t sure how they handled the urges, but clearly whatever they did worked. And for a few years, what Reiner did worked as well.

But now it was becoming too much. Now it was too hard. Now he needed the sex in order to stay a warrior.

He hated it. He had only been with a few others; a handful of Garrison soldiers and a regretful night with a cadet or so. He never enjoyed it. It was, of course, pleasurable. He was an imposing figure and so most men automatically assumed their roles and fell to their knees to please him. Reiner never looked at them while they serviced him; he couldn’t. It was too hard to look down and not see Marcel looking up at him with his lips wrapped around his cock.

At least Reiner never fucked them. And he never let him near his ass; not even Marcel did that. He wouldn’t have minded if Marcel did, but Marcel was so worried about Reiner dominating him that getting to slide into Reiner was never on his mind. But Reiner thought about it, at least. But now he was with strangers. And strangers didn’t deserve special treatment. Most gave Reiner blow jobs, some just hand jobs. He often got off, closing his eyes and telling himself he was an Alpha and they were his to take, and later would bring them to completion with his hand and occasionally his mouth. But most of his encounters were admittedly one sided. He didn’t mind that. After all, he was doing it because he needed sex to be stable, not because he cared about his partner.

Reiner had only done this a few times before, but he knew where to look. It wasn’t hard in the outpost full of Garrison soldiers to find someone who needed release. They were miles from any actual town and while sometimes prostitutes ventured over to the Garrison outpost, it was rare. The nice part about being in the military was that the soldiers were guaranteed a bed and food, which too many people inside the walls couldn’t afford. But the bad thing was that they were often all quartered together and they rarely had an opportunity to get laid.

Most of the men in the Garrison were straight. Everyone knew that. But since most of the men in the Garrison weren’t able to find a partner, they were willing to make exceptions all in the name of pleasure. Besides, even if the girl was willing to risk pregnancy by sleeping with a guy, the guy usually wasn’t willing to take the same risk. It was sometimes easier to just close their eyes and pretend it was a girl.

Reiner found handfuls of leering soldiers easily enough. He listened to the comments, ignored the stares and catcalls as he made his way down the street. They all knew the only reason a recruit would be there was to get laid. Everyone knew that.

Reiner found what he was looking for. The man was sitting on the steps with his friends but clearly was in change of the group. And more than that, he was tall, dressed casually if not for his military jacket thrown over his shoulders. His dark hair was neatly cut, his tanned skin was clean, but other than that there was nothing extraordinary about him. And yet, as soon as Reiner saw him, he knew that was who he wanted that night.

Reiner unbuttoned the top of his shirt and sauntered up to the drunken trio and stood before them, waiting.

The soldiers all smiled and nudged each other, exchanging looks and thick chuckles until the man stepped forward; he knew what Reiner was there for. The Garrison soldier examined Reiner and grinned. “Fine night, isn’t it?”

  
Reiner looked him up and down. _Fine enough,_ he supposed.

They went inside the dark building quickly. Like most encounters, this would be a quick screw and most likely wouldn’t need anything special to make it work. As the man pulled Reiner along, Reiner felt the first bit of hesitation buzz in his head. _Why had he chosen this one?_ The soldier was too bulky in the wrong places, and too thin in others. He was tall, but not enough to be imposing, and he had some muscle tone to him but it was belied by his small beer belly. His eyes were beady, his hair was the wrong color, and his smell was absolutely wrong; like stale smoke and cheep booze. But Reiner swallowed down his protests and let himself be guided into the room.

“I’ll make you feel real good,” the soldier said roughly, already grabbing at Reiner’s clothes.

Reiner doubted it.

The room was small and dingy but seemed clean enough. And at least this soldier had a room to himself. He must be an officer, Reiner thought. The Garrison soldiers were absolutely not supposed to fraternize with the cadets, let alone an officer with one, but this man was clearly too lecherous and too drunk to care. Not that Reiner cared either. He wasn’t here for anything meaningful. He just needed to find a sweet release. And an officer should do just find.

Reiner shrugged off his jacket, thinking about how he wanted this evening to go. He had only ever really messed around with other soldiers: hand jobs in the dark, frantic blow jobs behind buildings, and even some hushed frotting. The goal of all of these encounters was simply to feel good and to not think about the other person. They were all selfish encounters, but Reiner didn’t feel guilty. The others were using him the same way he was using them. It all was an equal exchange in the end.

Reiner didn’t want anything complicated tonight. He needed to get this officer on his knees, submit to him, and perhaps he’d reward him with a handjob before returning to Bertholt in the barracks. Then he’d feel a little bit more like Reiner the warrior and he’d be happy and Bertholt would be happy and he could stop worrying about his dynamic for at least another few days.

Once his shirt was pulled off, he unbuckled his pants. His cock was already half hard, so Reiner reasoned that it shouldn’t take long for him to reach completion. As Reiner pulled the man to the bed with him, he calculated how long he’d need to endure it. He was aroused but not lustful, so he figured five to ten minutes of heavy petting ought to get them both ready and then perhaps another five of touching? Reiner tried not to inhale the man’s scent too deeply. No, he’d settle for a handjob from the officer. He really didn’t need anything else from this man.

The soldier tried to kiss him but Reiner deftly pushed him away. _No, not that._ He wasn’t here to pretend to be loved. He was here to have his cock stroked; that was all.

“C’mere, boy,” the solider grunted, pulling Reiner roughly to him. In the dim light of the room Reiner caught sight of the man’s eyes; they glittered dark brown. _No, that’s the wrong color._

Reiner faltered at that thought. The wrong color? There was nothing right about the man and yet him having the wrong eye color was bothering Reiner. _Why would that matter?_ As the man began lathering kisses all over Reiner’s neck he suddenly realized why he chose to go to bed with this particular man. _He reminded him of Bertholt._

Reiner froze, his body suddenly going rigid at the thought. _What was he doing?_ He was supposed to be here to stop thinking about Bertholt and now he was with a man who reminded him of his friend?

“First time?” the man chuckled, misunderstanding Reiner’s sudden apprehension. “Don’t worry. I’ll open you up real gentle - ”

 _Open him up._ Reiner almost laughed. Of course the officer thought he would be the one on top tonight. Even the shoddy version of Bertholt was more of an Alpha than Reiner was. “No,” he said, finding his voice. “Not that.”

 _No,_ a voice in the back of his head whispered, _you’re doing it all wrong._ Reiner felt a strange part of himself start to come unhinged as a part of him slipped. Didn’t he usually smile and reassure and then grin as his partner eagerly lowered themselves to his swollen cock? Didn’t he usually place a hand on their head as they bobbed on his length, controlling their pace? Didn’t he take what he wanted to and generously returned the favor to his simpering partner? But not tonight.

“Fine,” the soldier didn’t seem bothered by Reiner’s refusal and allowed him to flip back over onto his back, “then let’s see your pretty mouth.”

No one had ever said that to him. No one would ever say such a stupid thing except a drunk soldier. Reiner felt his jaw clench but at the same time he felt himself nodding. _Nothing wrong with helping the soldier out._

Reiner felt himself slide off the edge of the bed onto his knees, looking up at the fake Bertholt. _What was he doing?_ Usually it was the other soldier doing this for him, just like Marcel. Yes, he occasionally took a cock into his mouth and stroked a few dicks; but they was all minor occurrences, scattered and done when he was lust-drunk. Not when he was fully aware and soft.

Reiner started, realizing that he was almost naked, on his knees in front of a fully-dressed stranger. He stared at the hard cock dangling from the opening in the man’s pants, twitching with arousal, the head of it already wet. _What was he doing?_

“Go ahead,” the soldier said, his voice hoarse with arousal, “put it in your mouth.”

Reiner blinked. _Is that - what he was supposed to do?_ He tried to remember, but part of him wondered why it mattered. There was a higher ranking officer, fully dressed, standing before him with a hard cock. Reiner was nearly naked, on his knees, and soft. _This must be what he was supposed to do, otherwise why else would they be in these positions?_

Reiner obediently opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip of the soldier’s cock. He listened to the man groan as he began to move his tongue around the head, ignoring the taste the best he could.

Reiner was still soft. _Why was he still soft? Didn’t he come here for sex? Why wasn't’ he enjoying it like the soldier was?_

Reiner didn’t stop. He lifted his hands up to the soldier’s groin, just like Marcel did for him, and with one hand he gripped the base of the soldier’s shaft and with the other he gently cupped the man’s balls. The officer was panting, grunting like an animal as Reiner continued his ministrations.

His movements were mechanical as the solider used him. Reiner couldn’t even get aroused as he knelt on the floor, passively, holding his mouth open while the nameless soldier pushed his length into Reiner’s throat.

“C’mon boy,” the soldier grunted as he continued thrusting into Reiner’s mouth. “Isn’t this what you came for?”

Reiner said nothing. No, he came to forget about Bertholt. To forget about Marcel. To forget about everything. And now all he could do was remember. He couldn’t stop thinking about Marcel, about the way he would smile, the way he would hold Reiner and whisper encouraging words to him, the way he would groan as Reiner filled him. And he couldn’t stop thinking about Bertholt. The way he smelled, the way his body radiated heat, the way he tasted when Reiner kissed him. _No, no, don’t think about them. Just focus on yourself._

But Reiner couldn’t. His mind was desperately crying out for something more, something deeper. This man whom Reiner had never met before, who smelled like selfishness and sadness, wasn’t what Reiner wanted. And he wasn’t enjoying himself in the slightest. This wasn’t doing what Reiner needed it to. If anything, this was just reminding Reiner all the more of how badly he wanted one of his Alphas to hold him and love him.

_One of his Alphas._

Reiner blinked. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t the way he was supposed to be thinking. But Bertholt had been taking such good care of him and Reiner was so, so lonely that the thought had blossomed in his mind all on its own. _Is that what he wanted? Did he want Bertholt or did he want Bertholt to be his Alpha?_

Reiner made a muffled sound as the soldier thrust even harder, now gripping his hair tightly as his cock pushed into Reiner’s throat. Reiner let his jaw go slack and waited, just focusing on breathing and not giving a damn about the soldier’s pleasure.

Is that what he wanted? Did he wand to hold and caress Bertholt and let everyone know he was his? Or did he want Bertholt to pin him down, to own him, to claim him, to be his everything and to know every last inch of his body? Reiner shivered. Did he want to become an Omega? Did he want his stomach to stretch with Bertholt’s children?

 _No, no I don’t want that_. But Reiner wasn’t suer what he wanted. He wanted to be an Alpha and have an Alpha take care of him. But he knew he couldn’t have it both ways. He swallowed against the cock swelling in his mouth, trying to get more comfortable as the soldier let out a cry and began to shake. Reiner was right on the line, precariously balanced between being an Alpha and being something else. He still hadn’t lost his dynamic but he was so close he could almost feel the strange urges in his body take over him.

He needed to stop this. What he was doing now wasn’t making a soldier submit to him while he enjoyed himself. He was letting another man use him for his own pleasure while Reiner went without. This was why he was losing his Alpha dynamic. Because he was failing to act like one. He should have thrown the officer down the moment they entered the room, swallowed up his moans with kisses, and stretched his ass pleasurably wide. He should have done a great number of things. But he didn’t do any of them.

Which is why Reiner found himself kneeling on the floor of a dusty inn with a stranger’s cock rammed down his throat. The soldier shouted something and mashed Reiner’s face into his groin as he came, shooting a few weak spurts of sticky seed down Reiner’s throat while the titan shifter stoically swallowed, trying to not inhale the man’s scent too deeply.

The soldier finished and Reiner felt himself breaking. The moment the soldier pulled his cock free, Reiner rose to his feet, his own cock still limp.

“Want me to return the favor?” the soldier asked breathlessly, cheeks still flushed as he panted for breath.

Reiner shook his head. “No, it’s fine,” he dimly heard himself say. It wasn’t fine. He came all the way here just to get another man off and got nothing in return? No, this was wrong. He should have said yes, he should have made the man touch him until he came. At least then it would feel like an equal participation. Now it just felt horrible. Reiner felt used and it was his own fault.

“Thanks,” Reiner manager, hastily pulling his pants up. This had never happened before. He never wanted this to happen before. All of it was awful.

Reiner escaped from the room as quickly as he could. He just wanted to go home and never have to remember this ever again.

 

______________

 

Reiner collapsed thankfully into his bed that night long after the other boys had fallen asleep. Bertholt was already in bed sleeping, his breathing deep and measured. Reiner looked at him for a long moment, his eyes traveling over his friend’s peaceful form, then he tore his gaze away and shook his head. Stop thinking about it.

He had left the town as quickly as he could and rinsed himself off in one of the nearby streams so that he wouldn’t smell of sweat and stale smoke. He swore he must have rinsed his mouth out for an hour, just trying to get rid of the taste of the soldier. _Why had he gone there? Why had he done that?_

Reiner pulled off most of his clothes and climbed into bed, feeling foolish. He thought he could find a substitute for what he wanted; he thought he could replicate Bertholt or Marcel and find a way to feel good about it without also feeling guilt. And now all he felt was shame and a sense of dissatisfaction. Not to mention a longing for the real thing.

 _No, you can’t have him,_ Reiner told himself firmly, turning away from his friend. He needed to sleep. He needed to forget about what he had tried to do and he needed to not think about Bertholt or anyone else.

Reiner closed his eyes, desperately wanting to sleep and forget about everything when a scent caught his attention.

_Bertholt._

Reiner’s eyes opened at that _. Oh walls._ Bertholt had masturbated that night.

Since Reiner had confessed his dwindling dynamic to Bertholt neither of them had gotten off in the barracks.

Reiner had managed to not relieve himself for the entire week, determined to not give off his scent the best he could so Bertholt wouldn’t worry when he smelled it changing. But Reiner also didn’t indulge himself out of fear that his thoughts would turn once more to Bertholt again.

And Bertholt, he noticed, had also stopped indulging himself. Reiner felt bad about that; he would never ask his friend to stop pleasuring himself. But Bertholt was all too aware that his scent was setting off Reiner’s, and so he didn’t partake.

But Bertholt must have been going out of his mind with need. He must have waited until he had the perfect opportunity: privacy and Reiner’s absence. Not to mention if Reiner was going to blow off some steam, he probably figured he wouldn’t be as vulnerable to Bertholt’s scent. The scent was faint so Bertholt probably had relieved himself hours before bed. He probably skipped dinner to do it, figuring it would allow the scent to dissipate enough that Reiner wouldn’t notice.

But Reiner caught enough of the smell. _Bertholt._ It was woodsy and sweet, like fir trees, and autumn leaves, and honey. Reiner swallowed. _This wasn’t right._ He shouldn’t.

But he needed to.

His cock, that was so unresponsive earlier, suddenly surged to attention. He gasped, his heart beating wildly as blood pumped through his body in almost painful pulses. His skin burned like it was on fire, his chest ached, and he felt a strange rushing sensation running through his body, bringing him closer and closer to crossing the line that he swore he wouldn’t cross.

Bertholt had miscalculated if he thought getting himself off hours before Reiner returned would be enough to dampen the smell and its effect on Reiner. Because Reiner hadn’t been this vulnerable in a long time. And now he was aroused, desperate, and the only one awake.

Reiner swallowed. He shouldn’t do this. Every rational part of him was begging him not to do this, trying to remind him of the last time he had thought about Bertholt and masturbated he had almost ruined everything, trying to remind him of the shame he had felt. But Reiner was too aroused to care. Bertholt’s smell, that at first was so faint it was almost undetectable, seemed impossibly strong now, and Reiner’s entire world seemed to be flooded with it.

Reiner only gave a half glance at Bertholt to make sure he was really asleep. Bertholt’s chest was still rising and falling in slow, measured breaths and his eyes were closed, barely visible in the near-darkness of the barracks.

Reiner bit his lip. He needed release so badly. And so what if he did it just one more time? He had masturbated to thoughts of Bertholt before and everything had turned out just fine. And there were extenuating circumstances, considering everything that had happened to Reiner today. Reiner just needed an easy outlet, a gentle but reliable release.

In one fluid motion, Reiner kicked off his pants and wrapped his hand around his cock, squeezing the stiffening flesh as he felt his cock throb with need.

Reiner let out a low groan, so low and gravelly that it was almost a purr. _Just one more time. Just for tonight._ He needed it so badly, didn’t he?

He breathed deeply, inhaling Bertholt’s scent. He had never thought about his friend’s smell before, never appreciated the scent that clung to Bertholt’s skin and certainly never stopped to savor the scent of Bertholt’s release. Reiner squeezed his cock firmly. _What had Bertholt thought about?_ Had he imagined Annie, naked and sprawled on a bed before him? Was it some faceless woman with smooth skin and perky breasts? Or was it something more? Did Bertholt touch himself thinking of a man, a strong, solid masculine creature with a thick, leaking cock of his own?

Reiner moaned as precum began to drip from his tip. _What did Bertholt look like when he masturbated?_ They were always careful to avoid doing it around each other. Other bunkmates like Armin and Eren didn’t mind but with the titan shifters’ increased sensitivity to smell, it was almost too much to handle without reacting. But now Reiner wanted that reaction. He wanted to see Bertholt in all his glory. He wondered what Bertholt’s cock looked like, if it was as thin and long as he was, if it curved or stood straight? He wanted to hear the sounds Bertholt made when he touched himself; did he gasp and moan or did he bite his lip and suffer through in silence? And Reiner wanted to watch Bertholt do it; he wanted to know if Bertholt tugged on himself roughly, if it was a sensual slide, if it was frantic and lust-filled, if he caressed his body or if he furiously fucked into his hand until he finished.

Reiner panted roughly, his mind spinning with all the possibilities. And every possibility was centered around Bertholt. His body trembled with need as he felt himself begin to hurdle towards completion, every thought in his mind fixed on Bertholt, every stroke of his hand on his cock desperately trying to mimic what Bertholt’s hand might feel like as well. _Walls, he needed release._

“Reiner?” Bertholt murmured, his eyes opening to look at his quivering friend.

“Bertl!” Reiner whimpered, the sound escaping his lips before he could help himself as he called out Bertholt’s childhood nickname. He knew he needed to stop, he knew he needed to make up some excuse, to turn away, to hide himself or run away; but he couldn’t. He gripped his cock even harder, not even bothering to hide his throbbing erection as he continued to stroke himself, whimpering. Shame washed through him, but it didn’t matter. He was too far gone to pay it any heed.

Bertholt’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. “Reiner!” he whispered, his voice sharp with concern.

Reiner choked back a cry, still clutching his cock. _No, no, no, please don’t look at me, please don’t see this -_

But Bertholt could see everything. He could hear it all, smell it all. There was no hiding for Reiner.

“B-bertl,” Reiner gasped, bucking into his hands. He knew what this must look like. It was dark in the barracks but not dark enough to hide himself. The smell of his arousal, not to mention the slick sounds of him stroking his length were unmistakable. And Bertholt could see it all; see Reiner gasping against his pillow, see the jerk of his hips, see the way his hands encircled his thick flesh as it spewed precum onto the sheets. He was almost doubled over as he fucked into his hands, gasping and drooling like an animal as he groaned his friend’s childhood name. _What was wrong with him?_ Reiner was too far gone to care. All he knew was that his balls felt like they were being compressed, his cock felt like it was lighting up with sensation, and his stomach was rolling with a thrill as he continued to stroke himself hard, staring at Bertholt from the other side of the sheets.

“Reiner,” Bertholt said again but this time his voice was firm and Reiner felt himself start to shatter. He couldn’t handle this rejection. He couldn’t handle the shame, the humiliation, the utter betray he was committing by thinking of Bertholt while doing this. Wanting Bertholt to hold him and touch him and take care of him while he stroking his hard cock under the covers, staring wide-eyed at his friend’s body. This was wrong. And yet he couldn’t stop. Reiner didn’t know if it was the hormones, the pheromones, the stress of his situation, or if it were love or lust; he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t know what was compelling him to do this, all he knew was that he needed to and that he couldn’t stop himself. _Forgive me, Bertholt,_ he managed to think as a soft, broken cry escaped his lips.

His cock was so hard that it hurt. It was straining for release, for pleasure, for something other than pain and denial. And Reiner’s mind was splintering, the warrior and the solider already drawing away from each other, creating a bigger gulf between them than that Reiner could maintain. He couldn’t do this. He couldn't’ do any of this. All he could do is chase after the smallest bit of physical pleasure and pray that it would be enough to anchor him back to earth again. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry -_

And Reiner suddenly smelled Bertholt strongly, the smell radiating powerfully from his friend and wrapping around Reiner, cradling him in the bed. And Reiner, as he groaned, breathing deeply to devour every bit of the comforting scent as his cock practically sprayed precum into the sheets, realized that Bertholt was purposely releasing his Alpha pheromones, surrounding Reiner in a cocoon of comfort as Reiner gripped himself.

“It’s alright,” Bertholt murmured softly in the darkness of the barracks, his voice measured and even. “It’s alright, Reiner. You’re nearly there.”

Reiner wanted to sob. His body hurt so much, he was so close, he just needed release. That’s all he wanted. And Bertholt was there, watching. Bertholt was guiding him, using his Alpha scent to lead Reiner to completion even though it was wrong, wrong, wrong. But Reiner couldn’t stop. He couldn’t even think. All he knew was need and pleasure and Bertholt.

“Bertl!” he cried out, no longer caring who might hear, stroking himself even faster. Bertholt’s scent was stronger now and Reiner belatedly realized that Bertholt had moved closer to him. Reiner bit down onto his pillow, groaning helplessly as his hips bucks, shaking the bed as he desperately clutched his cock, stroking it hard. No knot had swollen up and Reiner knew that no knot would; he was being comforted by another Alpha, he was whimpering with lust and sobbing with need as he stroked himself desperately. And Bertholt could see all of his utter lack of Alphaness on full, lewd display.

“Good,” Bertholt whispered, his eyes fixed on Reiner’s face in the darkness, no trace of disgust or hesitance in his voice. “You’re doing great. Just let it go, Reiner. Let everything go.”

“Nughhhhh!” Reiner closed his eyes, tearing at his cock was furious speed as he felt his entire body go taut like a bow, straining for the sweet, inevitable release.

“It’s alright, Reiner. I’m here. Everything’s alright.”

“Bertl!” Reiner cried out, feeling his cock suddenly swell and practically gush out volley after volley of seed as he tumbled over the edge, his body shaking with the force and suddenness of his release. Reiner whimpered as his balls churned almost painfully with the effort and he felt himself spray the sheets with seed while he gasped for breath. “Nnnngh oh Bertl!” Reiner gasped, panting heavily, his heart beating so rapidly he thought he might pass out, as he collapsed onto the bed, not even minding that he had fallen into his own sticky mess. He didn’t care. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, couldn’t understand.

“Oy,” a shout came from the other side of the room that sounded like Jean. “Keep it down!”

Reiner breathed hard into his pillow, trembling from the exertion of his release as he panted, catching his breath. When his chest stopped heaving, Reiner looked up at Bertholt, terrified. “B-Bertholt,” he managed to whisper weakly. He had just masturbated while Bertholt watched. Masturbated while Bertholt guided him to release. Masturbated while calling out Bertholt’s name.

Bertholt’s face was close enough to him that Reiner could see the whites of Bertholt’s wide eyes as he stared back.

_What had he just done?_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Screw it, I’m going to accept that every chapter will be 10k words now.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Please don’t read smut if you’re not supposed to. I do not own anything from SnK/AoT. Please mind the tags as there will be scenes that some may find distressing.

Spoiler: umm just so that you guys don’t get too excited, this chapter just has a lot of foreplay. But I *promise* the next chapter will definitely earn that explicit rating.

______________

 

He ruined it. He ruined everything. Without a doubt, his friendship with Bertholt had broken, shattering from the strain of Reiner’s instability and his inability to control himself. For one fleeting moment of self-indulgence he had inadvertently annihilated over a decade of friendship.

_It wasn’t worth it._

He hadn’t known what to say that night after he had cried out Bertholt’s name as he spilled himself between them. He and Bertholt laid in the darkness staring at each other breathlessly afterwards: Reiner staring at Bertholt in terror and shame, and Bertholt looking back with an expression Reiner didn’t even know how to place. And that scared him even more.

The cum in his sheets had already cooled and crusted when Bertholt finally moved. His movements were careful, measured, and slow, as if he had to think about each movement, analyze it, and deduce that it was acceptable. Reiner watched as Bertholt very slowly removed himself from the bed, managing to slip his long body out of the end almost soundlessly while Reiner swallowed every cry of rage and loss he had known.

Reiner bit down on his pillow again, wanting to scream, wanting to tear everything around him to shreds. He wanted to transform, he wanted to destroy, he wanted to explode. Gasping and senseless, he turned his head and instead bit down hard on his arm, his teeth tearing through his flesh with a sharp puncture and force.

He breathed in hard, tasting the metallic tang of his blood as it filled his mouth, feeling the shock and pain of the bite. He needed to feel something, even if it was pain. He needed to feel something that would allow him the release, the satisfaction; he needed to feel _something._

“Reiner.” Bertholt’s voice was soft and barely audible in the darkness and Reiner realized belatedly that Bertholt had returned to the bed, slipping back into it as easily as he had left. “Stop.”

Reiner felt his jaw click as he slowly released his arm from his mouth, still dazed and now bleeding.

“You can’t. Not here. Not now.” Bertholt’s voice was firm but it also sounded somewhat panicked.

Then Reiner realized. _Bertholt thought he was going to transform._ He thought Reiner would blow up the entire barracks and everyone inside and reveal himself in the middle of a military outpost crawling with soldiers. He almost laughed. No, he wasn’t that crazy. He was just out of his mind with grief and needed some sensation other than the weighty coil of guilt in his stomach and pain was the easiest thing to make.

Bertholt was still staring at him fearfully in the darkness, his own body poised and rigid - ready to move in a moment’s notice - and his eyes were wide as he stared intently at Reiner, no doubt looking for the telltale flicker of lightning that summoned the beginnings of a titan transformation.

Reiner struggled to catch his breath, trying to defuse the situation. “That’s not - I wasn’t going to - ” He couldn’t finish a sentence. He couldn’t even finish a thought. He had ruined everything and no part of him was working properly anymore. “I’m not going to - to - ” He swallowed. He couldn’t even say it.

But Bertholt must have understood because his body relaxed in relief and he leaned against the wall next to their bed, his long legs folding under him. He sat next to Reiner for a few moments while Reiner breathed heavily next to him, neither of them saying a word. After a moment, Bertholt moved, extending his hand. “Here. I - I figured you’d need it.”

Blindly, Reiner reached out and took what Bertholt had left to retrieve. He had brought Reiner a wet cloth. Shame washed over Reiner again when he realized Bertholt was just trying to help. _Bertholt hadn’t abandoned him_. Even after Reiner had climaxed to Bertholt’s name, his friend had gone to get a cloth so Reiner could clean up. Reiner betrayed Bertholt and Bertholt had ignored it and had taken care of him instead.

Without looking at Bertholt, Reiner cleaned himself up the best he could. His smell was everywhere, though. As was Bertholt’s. But there was nothing they could do about that.

Once Reiner was finished cleaning himself, Bertholt moved from where he sat against the wall, slowly slipping his body back under the sheets again, and laid down in the bed next to Reiner, resting his head wearily on his pillow. “We - we’ll take about this tomorrow,” Bertholt said gently, still watching the other shifter closely.

Unable to speak, Reiner nodded mutely, still not trusting himself to offer any more of an answer. For a moment they both laid still in their respective places on the bed, all too aware of the almost dizzying quiet of the barracks. Reiner swallowed. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep tonight. The release had been welcome at the time and was needed, but now that he had to lay next to Bertholt, burdened by the guilt of his actions, he knew he wasn’t going to be getting any rest.

A moment later Bertholt sighed roughly. “Just - just - come here.” He sounded tired but his voice wasn’t harsh. “You need to sleep.”

Reiner felt like a child but he obediently felt himself move a little closer to Bertholt in the bed, trying not to breathe in his friend’s calming scent too deeply.

Bertholt looked sideways at him. “Did your arm heal?” he murmured.

Reiner nodded dumbly. He had felt his arm warm up with steam the moment Bertholt handed him the cloth and by now the wound had closed.

“Good.” Bertholt hesitated, and a moment later reached out his arm and wrapped it around Reiner, holding him close just like the way Eren and Armin often did. “Just get some sleep,” he murmured, closing his eyes like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Reiner obeyed.

______________

 

Things were different in the light of day. And when Reiner woke up he immediately pushed himself out of bed, too terrified to even look to see if Bertholt was still there, and fled.

Bertholt must have taken care of the sheets with Reiner’s blood and cum on them after he woke up. Reiner’s shifting abilities took care of the wound. There was no evidence of what had happened. No proof of the line that Reiner had accidentally crossed. But Reiner felt the shame of what he had done beating against his chest with every moment; it was as if he had been marked and everyone around him knew the horrible thing he had done. Reiner was barely able to look anyone in the eye without choking back a sob of grief.

Reiner hadn’t been able to face Bertholt all day. He found a way to avoid him for most of the lectures and training, he looked away if Bertholt came near, and flinched if Bertholt spoke to him. Eventually, Bertholt gave up.

 _So much for making it home again,_ Reiner thought bitterly. It was too late. He could feel that something was different. There was something deep in his bones that felt unnatural, that felt flimsy and false. He felt weak and unsteady and every time he thought about it he felt sick to his stomach. The turn.

 _Was he even still an Alpha?_ Reiner couldn’t tell. Which meant he wasn’t even sure if he was even capable of shifting to the Armored Titan. He was as good as useless and the entire mission was a failure. Reiner wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t a titan shifter, and he certainly wasn’t a friend. He was an unmitigated disaster and soon everyone would know it: Marley would hate him for failing and Paradis would hate him for betraying them. And at the end of the day, Reiner would have no one left. The only question was how much longer would he last?

Reiner tried not to be jumpy. But he couldn’t help but think that he saw Zeke lurking around every corner, waiting to take him out, ready to smirk at him as he dragged Reiner back to Marley to be decommissioned, telling everyone what happened so the entire country would know that Reiner was an imposter, a fake, an unworthy candidate who never deserved to inherit the Armored Titan.

Reiner slept in the stables the next night, tucked away in the hay loft. He couldn’t bear to face Bertholt. Not in that bed. Not trapped with his friend all night long after what he had done.

Bertholt must have felt the same because he didn’t come look for Reiner, either.

______________

Finally, for the first time in weeks, the recruits had the night off: no more training with maneuvering gear, no more night runs, no more drills testing their speed and proficiency in reloading the cannons. At first, they assumed it was a joke; some cruel ploy of the officers offering them such a tempting evening, only to later snatch it away. But it was really going to happen: some noble in the interior had demanded the presence of the military for some sort of engagement, leaving the training barracks temporarily short-staffed. Which meant that the cadets actually had an evening of rest available to themselves and the cadets couldn’t have been happier.

 _Or,_ Reiner thought ruefully over his half-eaten dinner _, drunker._

The moment the officers left the dining hall to head to the interior, the spoils of the cadets’ hard-won celebratory evening kicked off and it wasn’t long before the typically reserved dinner crowd descended into a setting far more akin to a tavern than a military outpost. _Still, R_ einer reasoned as he continued his meal at one of the far tables while a throng of recruits hauled as much alcohol as they could find onto a table opposite of him, _they certainly deserved a respite._ Between the brutal training, the exhausted nights without the comfort of decent meals and familial support, and the rampant hormones that surged through the barracks like a virus, they needed to have a night to let off some steam. Tensions in the barracks were running particularly high lately: emotionally the last ditch competitions between friends in the final weeks before graduation drove rifts between them as many of the cadets desperately attempted to improve their scores to secure a better future in the interior.

Tensions were getting so bad that Reiner had to wonder if the sudden recall of half the training officers wasn’t a ruse to simply allow the cadets a night to relax and come back to their senses. Either way, it was a good thing that his fellow soldiers had a moment of revelry. What was less encouraging was the amount of alcohol the lightweights had managed to procure.

Jean’s mother had sent him a few bottles of liquor (so he claimed, though everyone else was pretty sure his precious mother would never send such a gift to her son), Connie and Thomas had wrangled a few half-full bottles of various spirits won from gambling with men from the Garrison, and Sasha proudly hauled in a frighteningly large quantity of fermented liquid that she had brewed off in the woods that tasted horrible but was unbelievably potent. That much alcohol for the exhausted and half-starved recruits coupled with a night off meant that there would be celebrating. And, of course, a decent dose of drunkenness all around.

Connie, Marco, Daz, Ymir, and Thomas were throwing paper slips down like money and betting on arm wrestling, eagerly watched by Mina and Krista, who shouted support from the sidelines. Jean and Eren were nearby and already glaring daggers at each other over who knew what, while Mikasa eyed them carefully. Sasha, who had probably drank the most at this point, was a bit groggy but steadfast as she rubbed Hanna’s back, trying to coax her into not vomiting all over the floor.

Things might have remained a little more tame if someone like Armin were present to keep an eye on everyone, but Armin had been sent to the infirmary earlier that day due to exhaustion and was no longer present to police the group of recruits.

While Reiner was amused by the drunken antics of his fellow recruits he opted to avoid them this night, abstaining from liquor and eating his dinner at the far end of the hall. It was simply no longer wise to tempt himself with alcohol, although he had no problems before. But things were different now. He was different. He was still slipping. A lot. His dynamic had potentially shifted to something other than an Alpha. He might not be able to shift into the Armored Titan. And he had lost Bertholt because of his lustful madness. Reiner wasn’t exactly going to be a pleasant drinking partner tonight.

Reiner idly pushed the last remnants of his stew around his bowl, trying to ignore the shrieks of laughter coming from a few tables over as Connie fell over onto Marco. He had no idea what he was supposed to do. Should he turn himself into Shadis and pray for leniency? Should he continue the mission anyway? Should he abandon the mission and just try to live his life as a soldier instead? _No._ Everything he did would result in Bertholt getting hurt. And hadn’t he hurt Bertholt enough?

Reiner sighed, still staring hard at his bowl. He was running out of options. And he was running out of time. He was about to stab his fork at another carrot when a slim shadow fell across his table. _Bertholt._

“Reiner,” Bertholt said softly, the question unspoken as he lingered at the edge of Reiner’s otherwise empty table.

Reiner looked up darkly at his friend. _No, he didn’t want to deal with this right now_. It was hard enough that Bertholt had seen him in his moment of desperation and weakness as he stroked his cock right next to his friend, but the fact that Bertholt had talked him through it? Reiner didn’t even know how to begin to process that. “What do you want?” he asked in a low voice.

Bertholt’s face wasn’t hard in anger, his eyes weren’t blazing, his fists weren’t clenched. To most people that would be a good sign, but Reiner knew Bertholt well enough to know that that could easily signal his death sentence. _Why did Bertholt even want to talk to him?_ Maybe he wanted to reason with him, maybe he wanted to tell him to run, or maybe he was here to tell Reiner that he had told Annie what had happened and Reiner was going to be decommissioned - Maybe this was Bertholt’s approach to take him back to Marley to die -

“I just wanted to talk,” Bertholt answered softly, his features still not giving anything away.

Reiner’s jaw clenched. _Of course none of this was going to be easy._

Bertholt hesitated, his gaze drifting over to the tables at the far side of the mess hall at the tipsy recruits, then back to Reiner. “Reiner - _please._ ”

Reiner gripped the spoon in his hand so tightly he feared it might melt in his fingers. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he said in a low voice, still not meeting Bertholt’s gaze.

Bertholt remained standing next to the table for a moment, silent as he surveyed Reiner. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

“I don’t want to talk about it at all.” Reiner no longer cared if his slipping was important to protecting the mission or if Bertholt had a magical solution to the problem. All he knew was that he was falling apart and he didn’t feel like having Bertholt analyze it. He just wanted the buzzing fog in his head to clear. He just wanted to be left alone. He just wanted a moment of peace.

“Alright,” Bertholt said after a moment, his head tipping slightly to the side as he considered Reiner. “We won’t talk about it. We can talk about - something else. Is - is that alright?”

Defeated, Reiner gave a shrug and nodded to the empty seats across from him. They ate dinner together every night. He didn’t see a problem with them doing it again and he was too tired to continue arguing with Bertholt. As always, it was better to pretend that everything was alright than actually admit that it was falling to pieces.

Reiner watched Bertholt sink into the seat opposite of him, his face utterly blank as he began to eat his stew wordlessly. Reiner watched him for a moment, then relaxed his posture as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened between them. “Going to join them for a drink, Bertholt?” he asked roughly, determined to keep the topic away from himself and his growing weakness. Reiner had opted to eat dinner at one of the far tables this night and so had a perfect view of the festivities as they quickly became more akin to drunken antics.

Bertholt looked looked up in surprise at Reiner, studying his face for a long moment. He let out a soft sigh, his features clearly reading a _so this is how you want to do this_ resignation at Reiner’s blatant attempt to ignore the obvious. But Bertholt must have figured that even attempting to play along was better than causing another fight so he glanced up at Reiner again, looking infinitely less amused. “No,” he said flatly. “I don’t think that would be wise.” His hazel eyes swept over the dining tables and the laughing recruits there.

Reiner scraped his bowl for the last remains of his now-cold stew with a shrug. Part of him almost wanted to join the festivities, as it would at least be an easy way to get drunk and laid with another recruit. But as soon as he had the thought Reiner dismissed it. _What if the same thing happened again that happened with the Garrison soldier?_ And worse _, what if nothing happened and he came to bed drunk and horny with Bertholt next to him again?_

Bertholt must have had the same thought because he frowned, his eyes fixed on his friend, watching closely. “Reiner,” he said softly in a low voice. “You’re not going to drink with them, are you?”

“No,” he said, trying not to think about his inhibitions. Reiner wanted to not have to think about anything. He cast around for something to talk about. “Where’s Annie? Shouldn’t you be out trying to woo her or something?” It wasn’t the best topic, considering how hopeless Bertholt was with Annie and considering what Reiner had done in front of Bertholt two nights ago but he was tired and it was the best he could do at the moment.

“Reiner,” Bertholt looked almost pained. “She - she’s not here. Remember? Her - her contact is in town so she’s - ” He looked at Reiner helplessly.

Reiner set his spoon down firmly, his face suddenly drawn. _Of course that was why Bertholt chose right now to talk to him_ ; Annie was gone working on her part of their mission. And Bertholt needed to ascertain if Reiner was still capable of continuing with theirs. “Sorry,” Reiner said after a moment. “I - I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Bertholt’s question was soft and toneless but Reiner knew immediately what he meant.

“No, I didn’t _forget_ ,” Reiner snapped, irritable that he had to defend himself from a harmless slip of the mind; this time it wasn’t a slip, he genuinely wasn’t thinking about their upcoming plans because he was too focused on avoiding Bertholt and the inevitable conversation about what had happened. “I just - I wasn’t actively thinking about it. That’s all.”

Bertholt quickly nodded, looking back down into his bowl. “Of course.” He looked almost relieved that Reiner was at least cognizant of how he sounded.

There was a long pause as the two sat in silence, finishing their dinner, ignoring both the drunken laughter a few tables away and the slow encroaching dread that loomed over them at what their mission demanded they do next.

The awkward silence that hung between them was suddenly shattered by the crashing sound of a chair splintering into pieces as one of the drunk cadets apparently eagerly broke it in a show of strength in front of the others. Reiner shook his head; _they’ll pay for that tomorrow._

Bertholt looked warily at the drunk recruits laughing and falling over themselves. He glanced at Reiner and, unable to bear the silence stretching between them, casually commented, “They’re certainly taking advantage of Armin’s absence tonight, aren’t they?”

Reiner grunted and picked up the hard loaf of bread on his plate, looking at it thoughtfully. “Did you hear that Armin was thinking about joining the Corps?” Reiner said softly, trying to change the subject. “I can’t tell if he’s doing it because Eren is or if he honestly wants to go out there.”

Bertholt looked a little uneasy, as he always did whenever he and Reiner discussed the future of their recruit friends; but he nodded in agreement, all too eager to have a new topic of conversation. “He’s always talking about leaving. I think this is his way of doing it.”

Reiner tore at the stale bread in his hands. It was easier to talk about other people and their problems. It was easier to pretend that the growing dread and desperation looming in their futures didn’t exist by fixating on minor issues instead. “He doesn’t stand a chance out there. If Eren really cared about him, he’d try to talk him out of that nonsense.”

“He won’t be any safer in here, Reiner,” Bertholt said softly.

Reiner nodded again and drained his cup of water so he didn’t have to voice his thoughts. He was _worried_ about Armin. He knew he wasn’t supposed to care but he couldn’t help but want to protect Armin from all the evil and harm that was about to come crashing down on him.

Bertholt watched him with a strange look on his features. “Maybe they’ll ask Armin to quit the cadets,” he offered gently. “They might assign him somewhere in the interior, far away from everything.”

Reiner grunted again, scraping the edge of his bowl with his spoon. He knew what Bertholt was trying to do; he knew he was trying to suggest that maybe he’d be spared the future slaughter, maybe he’d be safe. They both knew the chances of that were pretty low. Bertholt and him both cared about Armin. He was probably one of the most enjoyable people to be around in the barracks and he had so much potential on top of it. So smart, so kind, so stupidly loyal. Reiner sighed inwardly. Armin would insist on following his friends in to battle, but everyone knew Armin didn’t stand a good chance fighting. If Armin joined the Corps then he probably wouldn’t last long.

The recruits were both excited and nervous about the prospect, all chatting away at what branch they were going to join in a few short weeks. Reiner wanted to be excited, too. But he only withdrew into himself more. He had told his worried fellow cadets that he was simply focusing on improving his scores so he could beat Mikasa. He wouldn’t beat her and he already knew he was probably second in the class, but it gave him an excuse as to why he was so silent and brooding.

“Reiner?” Bertholt said softly, pulling Reiner out of his thoughts. “You’re - you’re not okay, are you?”

“Not now, Bertholt,” Reiner said, keeping his eyes on the wood grain on the table. “Please, can we not talk about this now?”

Bertholt paused. “You weren’t in the sleeping quarters last night. I - I was worried.”

Reiner grunted noncommittally. “I figured you’d prefer it that way, considering what I did.”

They lapsed into silence after that. Reiner continued to stare at the table dejectedly while Bertholt finished his tea and slowly set the cup down, his eyes nervously sweeping the hall. “It wasn’t enough, was it?”

Reiner swallowed, his cheeks flushing with shame. _No, Bertholt. Don’t make me say it._

When Reiner didn’t answer, Bertholt slowly pushed himself to his feet. “C’mon, Reiner,” he said softly. “Let’s go.”

Reiner felt his hands curl into fists. He knew that tone. That was the voice Bertholt used when he had made a decision; when he was about to spring into action. There was no stopping Bertholt after he had committed to something; it was one of the reasons he had been chosen to inherit a Titan. Bertholt may have liked to take his time to consider all possible options before making a decision, but once he did he was an unstoppable force. “Bertl,” Reiner murmured staring hard down at his hands. “Please - I don’t want to talk about this.”

“That’s too bad.” Bertholt’s voice had an edge to it that Reiner had never heard before. “You can’t just go on ignoring this any longer, Reiner. You’re falling apart and - and this isn’t good. It’s unhealthy. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Reiner looked up fearfully at Bertholt. Bertholt had made up his mind; did that mean he had decided there was no saving Reiner? Had he already communicated with Zeke? Had he already told Annie? _Bertholt had made up his mind and it was too late for Reiner to do anything to change it._ “Are you - are you going to decommission me?” Reiner couldn’t help the fear that quivered in his voice. He wanted to be strong and brave but the way Bertholt’s eyes were blazing had him shrinking back into himself. He wished it were Zeke who were here to take him away, or even Annie; just not Bertholt.

Bertholt stared at Reiner, his eyes widening in horror as he suddenly realized why Reiner was so afraid. “R-Reiner,” he whispered, his voice almost inaudibly soft, lingering on the edge of shattering into broken stutters of sound. “Why - why would you even say something like that?”

Reiner pushed his dishes to the end of the table, utterly defeated. _So this is how it ends, with Bertholt taking him away back to Zeke._ Part of him almost hoped that Bertholt wouldn’t do it, that Bertholt would try to save him instead, but the betrayal must have been too much. Reiner didn’t blame Bertholt for it. He, after all, deserved to be punished.

“It’s alright,” he murmured, still staring at the table. “I’ll come quietly.”

“Reiner.” Bertholt’s voice was a desperate hiss, harsh and confused. “I’m not taking you away.”

Reiner looked up at Bertholt in surprise. “What - what do you mean?”

“Reiner, you’re - you’re my best friend. I would never let them decommission you. Ever.” He stared at Reiner sadly, looking almost wounded. “You honestly thought I would?”

Reiner stared at his friend, still surprised that Bertholt wasn’t going to ship him back to Marley. “But - the mission. I’m - I’m a liability. I’ve ruined everything. I lost my dynamic and - ”

“No.” Bertholt looked at Reiner, long and hard. “That’s why I wanted you to come with me. I wanted to try to get your dynamic back.”

Reiner blinked. “Get my - dynamic back?” Reiner’s eyes widened when he realized what Bertholt meant. “Bertholt, no. No, you can’t - ”

“C’mon, Reiner.” Bertholt reached his hand out, his hazel eyes unwavering. “Come with me.”

“Please, you - you don’t have to - ”

“I know,” Bertholt’s voice was firm and Reiner could feel him radiating Alpha pheromones telling him to _listen, obey._ “But it’s what you need. And - we can’t afford to mess this up now. I need you at your best, Reiner.”

“I - I won’t”

“Yes, you will,” Bertholt said, standing tall over Reiner, his voice somehow deeper and more commanding than Reiner had ever realized. Bertholt paused then lowered his voice so that no one else would hear it, but kept his tone sharp so that Reiner would flinch. “Right this moment Annie’s out there risking her life to follow one of the most dangerous men on this entire cursed island. And you’re sitting here pouting because things aren’t working out the way you wanted them to. I’ve offered, Reiner. That’s the only thing that I can do. Because I’m stuck here in a mess hall with a bunch of drunk recruits while Annie is out there risking everything and all I want to do is be useful. And if that means doing this to get you back to where you need to be, then so be it. But don’t you dare ignore me. Don’t you dare tell me that I can’t. It’s the only thing that I _can_ do.”

Reiner looked up, staring at his tall friend and felt almost angry at him. And as much as he wanted to gratefully accept, he still had to try to persuade Bertholt against it. “Have you actually thought this through? Do you understand what you’ll have to do? Do you really understand what this means?”

Bertholt blinked, his face as calm and unrevealing as ever but Reiner knew his mind was whirling. “I understand what actions I’ll have to do, Reiner. I know what it means for me and I’m willing to do it.”

“No,” Reiner breathed, bitterness darkening his voice. “I don’t think you do.”

Bertholt closed his eyes for a moment and Reiner fleetingly thought it was out of fear or desperation. But when Bertholt’s hazel eyes snapped open again Reiner realized it was from frustration and anger; and an attempt to hold himself back.

The Colossal Titan was so massively huge it moved at a snail’s pace, but in human form, Bertholt was surprisingly fast. Too fast. He latched onto Reiner’s wrists before the blonde even realized what was happening, and, using his strength, hauled Reiner up to his feet from across the table, pulling him close to him.

“I _know_ what you need me to do,” Bertholt hissed into his ear, his eyes blazing as Reiner, faced with the brunt of Bertholt’s fury, froze helplessly in place. “I saw you and Marcel before. I know I’ll have to kiss you and touch you. I’ll have to do things to you and you’ll do things to me and - and it’ll be strange. And I know it’ll hurt - probably a lot. Physically and mentally. And I know it might change things between us. But I also know it’s worth it because you’ll be a warrior again. I _need_ you to be a warrior again.”

He released Reiner, who fell back down into his seat numbly. Bertholt leaned against the table and looked down at him, eyes still blazing. “I know what it might do to me. I know it’s not what you want and I know it’s certainly not what I want, but if it means that we can achieve our goal, then it’s worth it. Even if it makes me do things I don’t want to. Even if I get turned into an Omega.” His eyes softened. “I’ve already done plenty of things I didn’t want to do. And I did them for our hometown. I did them not because they were right, but because in the end it would help us achieve our goal.” He reached out his hand to Reiner, his gaze suddenly pleading. “Let me do this for you, Reiner.”

“B-Bertholt.” Reiner stared helplessly at Bertholt’s offered hand. He wanted this so badly; he just wished he had the strength to refuse. A good friend would say no, a good friend would be steadfast and go against their wants to protect Bertholt from getting hurt. But Reiner wasn’t a good friend anymore.

“Please, Reiner. Let me do what needs to be done.” Bertholt smiled gently at Reiner, his hand still extended. “Let me help save you.”

Reiner reluctantly reached out and slowly took Bertholt’s hand, feeling Bertholt’s cool, long fingers curl around his. “I - I don’t deserve - ”

“You don’t deserve to suffer,” Bertholt said simply before Reiner could say anything more. He smiled sadly. “It’s not your fault you’re here. Marcel tricked you into presenting as an Alpha. And he saved you because of his guilt. All along, this plan would only work if he were here to keep you anchored. And since he’s not, that job falls to me. But it’s not your fault. It’s his. So don’t blame yourself.”

Reiner looked away. “I’m sorry. I just - I just don’t want this to ruin our friendship. I don’t want you to hate me - ”

“I don’t hate you, Reiner,” Bertholt said softly, getting up from the table. “I’m doing this because you’re my friend and I care about you, more than anyone else.” Bertholt pulled Reiner up so that they were standing together at the end of the table. “Don’t worry about me. I know what I can handle. And if I had to do this with anyone, I’d rather it be you.”

“Bertl,” Reiner murmured. “I’m - I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bertholt whispered, releasing Reiner’s hand so that he could wrap his arms around him. For all Reiner knew in that moment it was just Bertholt and him alone in that hall, standing together, embracing with their hearts racing wildly. “It’s alright. I’ll take care of you, like I did the other night.” Bertholt hugged him even tighter and let his lips brush against Reiner’s ear as he pressed his too-warm body against Reiner’s. _“I’ll submit to you.”_

______________ 

They practically had the barracks to themselves.

The recruits were still enjoying their night off and were all celebrating and drunk; no one ventured to the sleeping quarters so Reiner and Bertholt had the entire room to themselves.

Bertholt had taken Reiner’s hand and stoically lead him back to the bunks without another word. Reiner let himself be lead along, too confused and too tired to protest. Bertholt had made up his mind and Reiner simply felt too weak to protest it. Besides, the baser part of himself wanted this. It was easier to just go with it than to fight.

They made it to the bunk that they shared and for a moment, Bertholt seemed to hesitate. Then he turned around and grabbed Reiner and pulled him close.

“Bertl,” Reiner managed to murmur weakly. “You don’t - we don’t have to - ”

Bertholt leaned forward and kissed him, silencing Reiner’s garbled protest. It was a soft kiss, a gentle, almost chaste gesture, simply setting his lips against Reiner’s. But Reiner could feel the heat bubbling in his stomach at the innocent touch. He didn’t know how he could possibly long for a person that way he ached for Bertholt. And now he had him, standing before him, wanton and pliant, looking at him with glassy eyes.

When Bertholt pulled away again, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were blazing but Reiner knew Bertholt well enough to know that Bertholt was self-conscious and was waiting for Reiner to respond. Reiner grabbed Bertholt’s shoulders and pulled him back to him; he would teach Bertholt how to really kiss.

Bertholt was surprised and somewhat pleased that his efforts had some sort of effect on Reiner. He let Reiner kiss him, his lips far more insistent than his earlier kiss, and made a soft, breathy sound of surprise when Reiner gently guided his lips open and began to use his tongue. They stayed together a moment longer as Reiner explored Bertholt’s mouth, gently devouring him, as Bertholt trembled in surprise at Reiner’s passion and in anticipation at what was to come.

“Reiner,” Bertholt whispered, pulling back a moment later. He nuzzled his face against Reiner’s neck, against his scent gland. “I’ll help you remember your mission tonight, alright?”

“B-Bertholt,” Reiner whimpered. He didn’t understand why his friend suddenly wanted this. Why was Bertholt suddenly alright with kissing him and touching him? Did Bertholt perhaps secretly want this? Or was he really so dedicated to the mission that he was willing to pretend to enjoy this just for the sake of keeping Reiner sane as the Armored Titan? Reiner couldn’t tell. And he couldn’t tell if the reasoning even mattered.

Bertholt reached out to Reiner, gently cupping his face in his hands. “C’mon,” he breathed softly, gently turning Reiner’s head to the side, exposing his neck. Reiner swallowed; he knew what Bertholt was after.

They had been lectured in Marley about the scent glands. In the past they had been powerful and the Eldians with a dynamic were little more than slaves to their desires, dictated by the pheromones there. Now they weren’t as strong and whether that was a result of the Eldian dynamics fading power or because the shifters were strong enough to ignore them, Reiner didn’t know. But even though they weren’t as effective as they were in the past, the small area on the side of their neck was still an enormously important part for the shifters. _How many times had Reiner inhaled Marcel’s scent there? Kissed his neck? Bit down on his shoulder, inhaling his sweet scent?_

Reiner turned his head obediently, showing his neck to Bertholt. It was a submissive gesture and they both knew it. But he also knew that Bertholt wanted to check his dynamic and the easiest way to do so was to check his neck where his scent gland was. Reiner swallowed at how clinical Bertholt was being about something that usually made people go crazy with lust; _maybe Bertholt really is so detached that he doesn’t care._

Bertholt lapped at Reiner’s neck gently, breathing in Reiner’s smell.

“Am I - am I a - ” He couldn’t bear to finish the question.

Bertholt looked at him, a strange look on his features, then he smiled. “You’re still an Alpha,” he said softly. “You haven’t turned yet.”

Reiner almost fell over in relief. “Are you - are you sure?”

Bertholt nodded. “Your scent’s changed. And it’s - it’s nearly something different. But the Alpha scent - it’s still there.” He smiled at Reiner. “You’re still an Alpha.”

Reiner nodded weakly. He was still an Alpha. He still had a chance to recover from this. He could still be the Armored Titan and be a hero of Marley. All wasn’t lost yet. “I - I thought that - ”

Bertholt silenced him with another gentle, chaste kiss. It didn’t go unnoticed that he was leaving the passion of their coupling to Reiner. “That doesn’t mean you’re off the hook,” he said softly when he pulled away. “You still need to do this. Please. For Marley. For me.”

Reiner wrapped his arms around Bertholt and kissed him again, with far more fire than Bertholt had given him. Alpha or not, Reiner needed this. He needed to feel loved and taken care of. He wanted Bertholt to do more than talk him through an orgasm, he wanted Bertholt to give him one. And he wanted to make Bertholt feel just as good as well. _Were those desires so wrong?_

Bertholt nuzzled against Reiner. “This is what Marcel did, isn’t it?” he breathed against Reiner’s neck as his arms wrapped tightly around him. “Every night he - he did this. So you’d remember.” He didn’t really ask it as a question. It was a quiet statement, soft and sad.

Reiner froze at the mention of Marcel. “I - ” Every night he and Marcel would slip away from camp together. Every night he was reminded that he was an Alpha. That he wasn’t a protector or a caretaker. That he was a warrior. Every night he remembered his role. Reiner looked up at Bertholt, his shoulders shaking. _Was that why he was confused? He didn’t know what he was anymore?_ “I don’t know,” he breathed, looking away from Bertholt.

“It’s alright,” Bertholt murmured, pulling away from him. He didn’t meet Reiner’s confused gaze. “This is what you need, isn’t it? Someone to submit to you the way Marcel did.”

Reiner looked away. “He - he was my anchor. I - needed him.” He closed his eyes. “I hated that I needed him. That I’m - not strong enough on my own.” He turned to Bertholt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you always have to be strong for me. I’m sorry that I’m so weak.”

“You’re not weak,” Bertholt said softly. “A weak person couldn’t do the things you’ve done.”

Reiner couldn’t tell if it was a compliment or not.

Bertholt, the strong and silent friend that Reiner had always cared for, looked Reiner in the eyes after that, his body still trembling but his eyes hard in determination. “Alright,” he had whispered, almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. Before Reiner could ask what Bertholt meant, his friend reached up and pushed his jacket away. Reiner had stared dumbly as without another word, Bertholt pulled his jacket and shirt from himself. He had watched as Bertholt removed his boots, setting them neatly together next to the bed, then reached for his belt.

At that, Bertholt had paused, and looked at Reiner, fingers on the edge of his belt buckle. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” Bertholt’s voice was soft as always but strong. He didn’t sound afraid; apprehensive, perhaps. Uncertain. But willing. “This is what you need to remember?” His hazel eyes were wide in apprehension; he looked lost and resigned at Reiner’s confusion. “If this is what you need, then do it. I’ll submit.”

Reiner didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that the moment Bertholt said he would submit, Reiner’s eyes were feasting on the tanned, muscled skin of his best friend offering himself up to him and his entire world was spinning away from rational thought. “You - you’ll - ” He let the question hang there.

He had never known Bertholt to be one for submitting. Bertholt was always his friend - his best friend - and together the two Alphas had made it through training, through the taunts and jeers; they made it to Paradis, they made it past the titans and within the walls - even Marcel didn’t make it that far. They had spent years training alongside each other in Marley and then years more training alongside each other here. But never had they crossed this line. Reiner could hear his heart pounding in his ears and felt a coil of need heating in his chest; _maybe this was what he needed -_

Bertholt slipped his belt loose and tugged his pants down. It was methodical and lacked any sort of finesse or subtlety. His body was wound tight with tension but he moved easily; Bertholt was used to working under pressure. They both were. Bertholt’s face was arranged in the same calm, carefully blank expression he often wore around the other recruits; the face he wore when he was trying to hide his true feelings.

“B-Bertholt,” Reiner whispered, suddenly finding it difficult to think. _What would happen to Bertholt if they did this?_

Bertholt removed his pants, letting them fall into a crumpled pile onto the floor on top of his other clothes. Reiner couldn’t help but stare. Bertholt’s long tanned legs were lean like the rest of him, but Reiner could see muscle rippling there. Legs that kicked open the wall. His breath hitched at the thought. Bertholt was powerful. Bertholt was like him. Out of everyone in the world, Bertholt understood him the way no one else ever could. Reiner felt saliva pooling on his tongue as his eyes swept up the long length of Bertholt’s limbs to his groin. Bertholt wasn’t aroused. Not yet. But even flaccid his cock was long and tan like the rest of him. And Reiner couldn’t help but note the flaring heat in his stomach at the thought of how heavy Bertholt’s cock would rest on his tongue -

“Bertholt,” he whispered breathlessly into the darkness of the barracks as heat pooled in his cock. _What was he supposed to say?_

Bertholt looked at him, his face still blank but his eyes blazing with an emotion Reiner wasn’t sure how to place. “Reiner,” he said, his voice gentle and quiet but with a rough instance around the edge. “Take off your clothes.”

Reiner reached up for his shirt blindly, his fingers already fumbling with the buttons as he stared at Bertholt’s naked form. He had seen Bertholt naked before, seen him change in the barracks, seen him bathe in the showers, seen him skinless and steaming, towering above the walls - This was different. This was all different. He had never seen Bertholt naked in this way. Naked for him.

Reiner pulled his shirt off and fumbled with his belt next while Bertholt watched him calmly. “Slow down,” his friend murmured gently. “There’s no rush.”

Reiner almost laughed. Years ago he had bedded Marcel almost every night. Even behind the walls he had had a few nights of stress relief with some fellow soldiers. He knew how to do it. But here Bertholt was, calm and watchful, instructing him on what to do when most likely Bertholt had never done anything of the sort before. Reiner felt a pang of guilt at that. Had Bertholt done anything like this before? Reiner knew that Bertholt liked women. He never really gave other men a second glance. And Reiner knew that Bertholt had a crush on Annie. Then again, it was Annie and she never gave Bertholt the time of day. Who would Bertholt have slept with? Reiner swallowed as he pulled his pants down and kicked his boots away. _No one._

Reiner tossed his clothes to the ground in a crumpled pile, leaving him bare before Bertholt. Bertholt stared back at him the steadfast determination on his face finally beginning to crack as he surveyed his enormous friend laid bare before him.

Reiner was proud of the way he looked. He may have been a weak child, but years of determination and training had made him strong. Maybe it was part of his father’s blood that made him blossom into the specimen that he was or perhaps it was through sheer force of will, but no one could deny that he was in shape. But Reiner, as much as he enjoyed being so incredibly strong, so solid so broad, felt fear for the first time. Bertholt’s eyes were surveying his body, noting the muscles, the meat, the giant presence that Reiner’s form had. Bertholt didn’t like men. He didn’t want broad shoulders and beefy arms, he didn’t want to inhale Reiner’s musk, run his fingers through his short hair, he didn’t want Reiner’s large cock stretching him -

Reiner blinked, suddenly wishing he could make himself smaller. Bertholt wasn’t Marcel. Bertholt didn’t lust for him, didn’t worship his body. Bertholt didn’t want any of this.

“Bertholt,” he managed to whisper, shame washing over him. _What was he thinking?_ Bertholt was his friend, not his lover. He was his best friend! How could he risk losing Bertholt over a night of lust? It wasn’t worth it. “I’m sorry,” his voice was so soft he could barely register it. “This - this isn’t right.”

Bertholt’s eyes widened. “Reiner, it’s - it’s alright.” They sat in silence for a moment and Reiner could practically feel his need evaporating off his skin. He paused. “Are you a warrior or a soldier?”

Reiner ran a hand through his hair, feeling his erection deflating. “You asked me that before,” he murmured softly. “When I kissed you last month.” He looked up at Bertholt. “Is that why you’re doing this? To anchor me? To make sure I’m a warrior?”

“I’m trying to help you,” Bertholt said firmly. “You’re my best friend, Reiner. And losing Marcel was hard enough. But if you - ” Bertholt stopped, unable to finish the statement. “I promised I’d look after you. And I intend to keep that promise.”

Reiner grunted at that, looking down at the floor. He couldn’t bear to look at Bertholt standing next to him naked and willing. He couldn’t bear to say no to something he wanted so badly. “Not like this,” he managed to whisper. “I can - I’ll find a recruit. Blow off some steam. I’ll be fine after that.”

“You’ve done that before and it hasn’t worked.” Bertholt’s eyes were blazing, so bright they were almost green like Eren’s. His voice quieted. ‘I know it’s hard for you - harder than it is for us because you’re so close to everyone. It’s messing with you. And - and I think you need this. Like you needed Marcel. He anchored you. You always knew you were a warrior when you were with him.”

“Marcel’s dead,” Reiner said harshly, ignoring Bertholt’s flinch, “so it doesn’t really matter what he did back then.”

Bertholt hesitated. “But I’m still here.” He waited a moment. Waited for Reiner to look up at him in surprise, waited to get his own hitched breathing under control. “I know I’m not Marcel and I know I can’t replace him, but - but I’ll do whatever you need me to to keep you anchored. I - I can’t lose you too.”

“Bertl,” Reiner murmured. “You won’t lose me.”

“If you keep forgetting Annie’s going to notice. She’ll report you. And they’ll - they’ll decommission you.” They both knew what that meant. “You have to remember! You don’t have a choice anymore. So just - just let me do this. If it’ll help.”

Reiner smiled sadly. “Bertholt, I - I can’t. Not when you don’t want to. You’re - in love with Annie. And I’m not exactly your type.”

“Annie doesn’t exactly return my affections” Bertholt said bitterly. “Please, just - let me do this. Let me feel something.” His eyes were wide, frightened and sad. “I’m tired of losing everyone. I’m tired of being alone. I just - I just want you to be safe. I just want you to know how much you mean to me.”

Reiner tried to protest, he tried to move away but he was half naked and against the wall. Bertholt didn’t give him a chance to argue, anyways. He pressed himself against Reiner, opening his lips and kissing Reiner deeply. It was the first time Bertholt had actually kissed him. The first time he had pinned himself against Reiner, inhaling his scent and devouring his taste. Reiner nearly melted into it.

But he didn’t love Bertholt the same way he loved Marcel. Marcel was strong but small, a fiery personality in a small package. He was loving and sweet and kind. Even though he had lied to Reiner, he also made Reiner want to be a better man and, now that he was in Paradis, made him want to be a better soldier. But Bertholt was a different sort of fire. Bertholt wasn’t the gentle warmth of a hearth fire on a winter’s night like Marcel was; he was a perfectly poised flame hovering over oil, perfectly controlled, but ready at any moment to engulf the world in an inferno.

Reiner loved that although he was physically stronger, Bertholt was bigger. Bertholt was his opposite in every way and it made them fit together like puzzle pieces: his control with Reiner’s instability, his quiet observation with Reiner’s smiling social persona, even his dark hair, tanned skin, and lithe body contrasted with Reiner’s broad blond bulk in a way that he relished. Bertholt wasn’t Marcel, but he didn’t need to be.

“I want to,” Reiner whispered, trembling with every bit of willpower he had left. “But you’re my best friend. And maybe I’m confusing that with something more. Maybe I have my wires crossed and this is all a mistake or maybe I really do want this. But I know you don’t. And I know that the only thing I know without a doubt is that I don’t want to ever hurt you. I can’t. You mean too much to me.”

Bertholt’s eyes were wide and wounded as Reiner pushed him away. But Reiner didn’t care. For the first time in weeks he was thinking clearly. He may not know what to do about his mission or about his dynamic, but he knew what to do about Bertholt; he knew he needed to not hurt him.

“I can’t, Bertl. And I’m sorry if it makes me lose my dynamic. And maybe I’ll forget that I’m a warrior. I don’t want to compromise our mission but I’d rather be decommissioned than make you do something you don’t want to do. I’ll never do that to you. That much I know.”

“Reiner,” Bertholt said softly, his eyes impossibly wide, his body trembling. “It’s - it’s alright. I’m alright with you doing this, if it’s what you need.”

Reiner couldn't help himself. He moved forward to kiss Bertholt one last time, letting himself devour his friend’s taste, letting it linger on his tongue for one more glorious moment. Then he withdrew, breathing heavily. “I need this,” he murmured. “But I don’t want this; not if it’s at your expense.” He smiled and traced the line of Bertholt’s jaw sadly. “Thank you, Bertl. Thank you for trying. Thank you for offering. You don’t know how much that meant to me. But - you mean too much to me to do this, even for my own sake.”

He didn’t look at Bertholt as he scooped their clothes off the floor.

“I - I don’t understand,” Bertholt whispered as Reiner pulled his pants on wordlessly.

Reiner handed Bertholt’s clothes to him and sank next to Bertholt on the bed, holding his own rumpled shirt in his hands. “I’m sorry, Bertl. It’s just that - out of anyone in the entire world, the only person I really care about is you. I love my mother, I care about Annie, I care about Armin, and Eren, and everyone else. But the only person who I would do absolutely anything for is you.”

“R-Reiner - ”

“Listen, Bertl. Just wait. Annie’s on her mission now and - maybe we won’t even need to do this. Maybe everything will be solved by tomorrow. Or maybe everything will go so badly that we’ll have to turn around and go home. But, let’s wait until then. I don’t want you to do this unless you absolutely have to.”

Bertholt hesitated, then sighed, looking down at the clothes in his lap in defeat. “Alright. It’s - it’s your choice, too. And if that’s what you want, then - ” He swallowed and nodded, his features hard. “Alright.”

Reiner looked away when Bertholt rose to his feet to dress himself. He had already seen every bit of Bertholt but now it seemed inappropriate to openly stare at and admire his friend’s figure. When Bertholt finished dressing himself, he returned to the edge of the bed and sat down wearily.

“Reiner? Was - was it me?” Bertholt looked over at him, embarrassment etched on his face. “Did - did I do something - wrong?”

“No, Bertl,” Reiner murmured, wrapping his arms around his friend and kissing Bertholt’s cheek before he could stop himself. “You were perfect.”

“Then why - why didn’t you - ”

Reiner could hear the uncertainty in Bertholt’s voice, the hesitation, the shame. “I may not be strong enough to be a warrior for Marley’s sake, but I’m strong enough to not do this for your’s.”

Bertholt glanced at him. “But you’ll keep slipping. It’s going to keep happening.”

Reiner nodded. “I’ll try harder.” He paused. “If something happens and we need me to be a warrior, then it’s an option. If we need my Titan, then I might have to ask you to do it. But we don’t need it now. And if I can spare you this, then I will.” He looked at Bertholt steadily. “You’re not Marcel. And I’m glad you’re not. I don’t want to ever have to doubt our friendship the way I doubt Marcel’s.”

Bertholt smiled weakly and wrapped an arm around Reiner. “You don’t ever need to doubt our friendship, Reiner. You’re my best friend and I’d do anything in the world for you. That’s why I offered.”

Reiner smiled as well. “And that’s why I said no.”  He leaned against Bertholt, his heart no longer pounding, his mind mercifully clear.  "Thank you, Bertl.  For always taking care of me."

Bertholt rested his lithe body against Reiner's heavy bulk.  "Of course, Reiner.  I always will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for ending things like that! I was going to do an entire sex scene and then realized it would have made the chapter insanely long, so I had to find a way to move that to the next chapter instead. So, fear not! You're just a chapter away from the good stuff.
> 
> And thank you, everyone, for sticking with this series so far. It really means a lot to me that you guys are willing to slog through 50,000 words of nonsense.
> 
> Now that we're getting to the point where there will be plenty of sex scenes in these chapters, I'd love any and all ideas and input regarding what you'd like to see. I'm planning a fluffier scene with Reiner and Bertholt (sorry but it probably won't be the next one; knowing me that one will be plenty angsty), at least one scene of Reiner bottoming, some more Marcel sex flashbacks, and I've been playing with the idea of having some scenes with Armin tucked in there as well. Please let me know if you guys have anything you'd like to see (or anything you really don't want to see). 
> 
> And finally, please feel free to comment! Like anyone, I love praise, but I also love criticism because it helps me get better. 
> 
> Thanks again!


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